


The Snake and the Lioness

by KatrineHargrave



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Romance, Some Humor, marriage law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 52,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatrineHargrave/pseuds/KatrineHargrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Voldemort falls, the Order remains to fight the many Death Eaters that avoided Azkaban. Due to the drop in numbers from the war, and inbreeding among pure-bloods, the Ministry passes a marriage law. Severus Snape is forced to marry returning seventh year Ceridwen Sheridan to keep her safe from the Death Eaters. AU b/c Snape and most of the Order are alive, EWE. Some humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bumping Heads Already

Ceridwen was leaning her chair back on two legs, as was Sirius on her right, listening to the rest of the Order have a heated discussion about the next attack on the Death Eaters. The Golden Trio was to her left, the remaining Weasley siblings across from them, and the others, with the exception of Snape, who had his arms crossed, looking thoroughly annoyed at being there, were standing near the opposite end of the long table in the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. No one was able to agree on whether or not they should carry out the attack, one half arguing that if they did it within the week, the targeted Death Eater nest would still be weak, and the other claiming that they would probably have extra forces in place in the event of a second attack. Remus and Arthur, though on opposing sides, were the only people participating in the debate who kept cool heads.

The Order’s owls arrived then, thankfully breaking up the argument for the moment, but the short main story would send everyone into some sort of fit once again.

 

**_Ministry Announces Marriage Law!_ **

_Due to a severe drop in numbers during the Second Wizarding War and pure-blood inbreeding, the Ministry of Magic has passed a marriage law applying to every witch and wizard between the ages of 17 and 65. The terms of the law state that engagements must be approved by the Ministry by the end of this month, August 31 st, and weddings must take place before January 1st. Anyone who has not gotten an engagement approved in the allotted time will be matched with someone. Couples will be required to be expecting a child or to have already bore one by the following New Year._

_The Marriage Law also states that pure-bloods may not marry other pure-bloods unless the Ministry is able to confirm that the witch and wizard are not closely related enough that their union will be considered inbreeding, and that muggleborns must marry either a pure- or half-blood._

_Widowed witches and wizards are exempt from all parts of this law, and any of-age student of Hogwarts is exempt from the conception aspect until graduation, after which he or she will have one year to conceive or bear a child._

Surprisingly, Remus was the first to lose his temper, slamming his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ onto the table, and Tonks gripped his arms and murmured that it was going to be okay, gradually settling her husband down. Arthur took a deep breath and gripped his own wife’s hand, not too worried about his own children because they were all spoken for, but shaken nonetheless.

Sirius disregarded the story completely, as he was in his first steady relationship _ever_ after returning from the Veil. With a grin, he decided to tease his old rival, Snape. “Got a lady on your mind, Snivellus?”

The Potions Master sneered, ignoring the man.

Remus took it upon himself to take charge of the situation as the papers were passed around and nearly everyone made some sort of noise conveying shock, outrage, or dismay.

Ceridwen had just let the paper fall to the table and dropped her head onto her arms. Sirius patted her shoulder good-naturedly while Harry squeezed one of her hands, attempting to offer comfort. She squeezed it back.

“Alright, are there any students in the Order who are unspoken for?” Remus called, bringing the room’s attention to him.

Ceridwen raised the hand that wasn’t holding Harry’s, forcing her head up as well. It was sorely obvious that she was the only one. She held back a groan. _Fantastic_ , she thought as people immediately began to fire off names, not paying any attention whatsoever to who spoke.

“Fred can marry her, right?”

“Sorry, mate, Cho might hex me.”

“What about George?”

“Blimey, mate, I’ve only been with Angelina since my fifth year! She’d _Avada Kedavra_ me for sure!”

Snape flinched.

“Is Neville with anyone?”

“Yeah, Luna.”

“How about Ron?”

“Oi! I’m right here!” She couldn’t help recognize Hermione.

“Harry, then?”

Ginny repeated Hermione’s indignant reminder.

Sirius was the one to point out the only remaining option, whose head was bent as he pinched the bridge of his nose, having already come to the conclusion that he was it. “Snivellus,” Sirius said, voice falsely sweet, “got any ideas, old friend?”

Ceridwen whipped her head right to stare, wide-eyed, at the Professor, and Snape wordlessly jinxed Sirius’ chair’s legs to break. “When will you learn, Black?”

Sirius picked himself up off the floor, charming his chair to fix itself and warily settling on it again—and left all four legs touching the ground.

“Severus,” Molly chided, “that was uncalled for!”

“That would be a matter of opinion, Madame.”

“Close your mouth, love, you look like a fish,” Ginny quietly suggested from across the table.

Ceridwen’s mouth closed with a soft _crack_ as she clenched her teeth. The Order unconsciously disregarded anything she might have to say on the matter after that point, and she found that she no longer wished to hear them discussing her fate as if she were their collective child and Teddy’s age rather than seventeen years old. She knew, however, that no one would let her leave, so she let go of Harry’s hand and crossed her arms, vaguely noticing that Snape was being equally ignored.

After a full ten minutes, the man who was now supposedly her fiancé spoke up, tired of listening to the gaggle of fools debate his life away. “Do any of you dunderheads give a damn about either of our opinions on this, or are you going to continue to act as if we’re just willing to accept it so quickly?”

Silence fell. As Snape had expected, they turned to Ceridwen rather than him, but he forced himself to be patient; it was only logical that it be her decision, in the end.

But she had frozen under the sudden pressure of so many eyes watching her, waiting for a response of any kind.

He sighed. “Well done, everyone, you’ve turned her into a bloody frightened deer.”

“Well, then, you should be perfect for each other, doe-boy,” Sirius quipped, annoying everyone with his insensitivity.

Severus only jinxed the man’s chair to break again as his heart gave a painful lurch, triggering everyone to go on talking again as if they’d never stopped.

“Oh, will you all just shut the hell up!” Ceridwen shouted, her voice managing to echo slightly.

Severus snorted, amused when her amber eyes once again widened with all eyes on her. “Speak up, girl, you have no excuse to be shy now,” he sneered when she didn’t speak.

She whipped her head in his direction again, causing her night-black hair to fly into her face, actually impressing him with the glower she aimed at him. “Don’t start with me, Professor.”

The twins sniggered, tossing in some rather rude but also rather funny comments. Well, funny to nearly everyone but Severus and Ceridwen.

“My apologies, _dear_ ,” Snape drawled, much to the further amusement of the room’s inhabitants.

“Well, I gave you fair warning,” she muttered with a sigh. “ _Langlock_ ,” she said with a quick wave of her wand.

_Oh, bugger me. Damned girl._

“Cat got your tongue, Snivellus?”

Snape reminded Padfoot once again that the chair-breaking jinx was wordless, and the man crashed to the floor for the third time in half an hour, muttering a string of obscenities.

“Was there something you wanted to say, Ceri?” Arthur asked kindly. He and Molly thought of her as one of their own, along with Harry and Hermione.

The girl took a deep breath. “Is there any other option for us? I don’t relish the idea of marrying my professor, much less having children with him, and I’m sure he’s sitting there plotting revenge on me for that little trick already, besides trying to figure a way out of this…arrangement.”

“Well,” Remus began, furrowing his brow and leaning on the table, supporting himself with his hands placed flat on its surface, “since you’re a half-blood, you could really marry any man you want, but I know you see the sense of marrying within the Order or its allies, yes?”

She nodded.

“Good. The only problem, and I mean no offence to him, is that Severus is the only male member of the Order included in this ridiculous law who is single.”

“Fu—”

Harry clapped a hand over her mouth.

Severus rolled his eyes, wishing like hell that the damn spell would wear off so he could speak again and glaring at the girl with everything he had.

When she saw it, she glared right back before a slow grin turned up her lips. “Speechless, are we? Surely I couldn’t have offended you that badly.” Expecting his jinx, she rose before her chair collapsed. “It’s rude to jinx a lady’s chair.”

“Severus Snape! Behave yourself!” There was Molly again, playing mother hen to the lot of them.

The dark wizard was glad to feel the spell fade. “She’s not a lady, she’s my student.”

“I’m you’re sodding fiancée, Snape.”

“That’s Professor or sir to you, girl.”

“My deepest apologies, _sir_ , for offending you so.” She stood once more to sweep him a low, disrespectful bow.

He bit his tongue.

“Looks like you’re gonna have your hands full, there, Professor,” George piped in, dissolving into more sniggers with his brother.

“She’s right wild, that one,” Fred added.

“Thank Merlin I have experience breaking wild spirits, then,” he hissed.

Ceridwen quirked an eyebrow at him, arms crossed again. “I’d say you’re getting rusty, then, Professor, seeing as you haven’t managed to come anywhere near succeeding with me.”

“Headstrong Gryffindor.”

“Belligerent Slytherin.”

The rest of the Order just watched them bicker, heads moving back and forth as if they were watching a tennis match. Sirius vacated his seat to avoid the line of fire, taking up a spot next to Tonks and Remus.

“At least I live up to my House.”

She rolled her eyes. “Have you _not_ met the Golden Trio and the Weasleys? Not to mention Padfoot over there. Obviously, I live up to mine as well as you do.”

“Fine, then. You’re just a willful, foolish girl.”

“Better than a cradle-robber.”

Snape’s eyes turned to black fire as the others in the room either gasped or tried to hide giggles of laughter.

Ceridwen bit her lip. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”

“Gold-digger,” he snapped, a mischievous glint replacing the fire.

Ceridwen grinned.

“Alright, you two, that’s enough. Can’t have you killing each other before you’re even officially engaged.”

The arguing pair groaned at the same time, making those who heard, which was nearly everyone, laugh again. “For the sake of my sanity, Remus, do not utter that word,” Severus ordered.

“I second that,” Ceridwen added.

“Already obedient, are we?” Severus provoked.

Ceridwen quirked an eyebrow again. “Not _even_ in your dreams.”

“Nobody wants to hear about his dreams!” the twins chorused.

“I imagine not,” Snape retorted, “as they’d likely send you running for the nearest cliff.”

“That dirty, eh?” George said.

“Goodness, Snape, did you plot the whole thing to get the pretty Gryffindor to your bed?” Sirius finally chimed in.

Ceridwen blushed, and her friends minus Harry glared daggers at the man. “That’s a bit much, Padfoot, you know he’s not like that.”

Severus turned on her, though, rather than his old rival. “I do not need to you to come to my _rescue_ , girl.”

“Seems to me you did, or would you prefer Missus Weasley yelling at you again for hexing him?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“Oh, shove off and just accept help for once.”

They went off on another tangent of bickering as the rest of the Order rolled their eyes, no longer amused at the “couple,” and Remus summoned a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkwell to start on their engagement proposal, sending his owl off with it a few minutes later. When he returned to the kitchen, no one had bothered to interrupt Severus and Ceridwen’s arguing.

“Bumping heads this much already; this is going to be a disaster,” Tonks predicted quietly.

“They’ll kill each other in a week,” Remus muttered in agreement.

Sirius snorted. “I give them a day.”


	2. Errands

One week later, the Order was having another meeting. They’d forgone the attack on the Death Eaters, as Remus had finally seen the sense in Arthur’s argument about not going through with it. None of the younger members knew what this meeting was about, as they had been dismissed to the sitting room along with the twins, but if the indistinct shouts of Snape were any indication, it was about the engagement or the marriage law in general.

Their suspicion was proven when he stormed into the room, halting the light banter the seven of them had fallen into.

“Miss Sheridan,” he said, enunciating each syllable, and it was clear to them all that he was barely in control of his temper, “ _Moony_ wants to talk to you.” He was burning a hole in her forehead with his stare.

“Thank you, Professor.” She rose from her spot between Fred and George, passing Snape as she walked toward the kitchen, brushing against him when she passed through the doorway because he refused to move for her. She swung the kitchen door open, wincing at the sound of Snape slamming the front door rather violently. “Okay, which of you—Sirius, what did you do?” she snapped when she caught the Animagus smothering a laugh, which only served to make him laugh harder. Arthur was glaring at him from across the room.

Remus fought a smirk of his own as he explained, “Sirius asked what Snape wanted to name the children.”

Ceri smacked them both on the arm, and for once Tonks didn’t complain about someone going after her husband.

He picked up on it, too. “Oh, no. Even Tonks isn’t amused.” He turned to her, grimacing at seeing that her hair was a brilliant red.

“You both should be more mature than this by now. Remus, you’re married and you have a son, and you’ve become a kind of leader to the Order alongside Arthur. And you—” She whirled on Sirius, who sobered the instant her molten gold glare was turned on him. “—you were stuck between dead and alive for a full year. You have a godson to take care of, regardless that he is of age, as well as two other witches you’ve taken into this house. Grow. Up.”

After her lecture, both men looked appropriately admonished. _Serves them right._

“Now, what is it you wanted, Remus?”

“Just to make sure you’ve been handling your…situation…well this past week. We’re all worried about you.”

Someone’s owl swooped in.

She softened. The Order was her family, it was all she had left after her mother died and Hermione let her send her father to Australia with her parents. “I think I’m taking it rather well, actually, but I also haven’t seen him since last week, besides when he told me you wanted to talk to me. I haven’t really had to face it yet.”

“Well, looks like you’ll have to face it now,” Arthur announced, walking a small roll of parchment over to her. “It’s from the Ministry, addressed to you.”

 

_Miss Sheridan,_

_We congratulate you and Severus Snape on the_

_approval of your engagement. Please remember_

_that you have until New Year’s Day to marry._

_-Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_Minister of Magic_

“Ugh. I hope poor Kingsley doesn’t actually write all of these.”

“What is it?” Sirius inquired.

“A congratulations letter from the sodding Ministry.”

“He probably has some sort of charmed quill that does it for him,” Arthur said.

“Yeah. Well, thanks for checking on me. I’m going to go back to the sitting room with the gang.” To various farewells, she turned for the door, stopping before she was actually out the door to turn around and face Remus and Sirius again. “By the way…sod what Professor Snape says about fighting his own battles and whatnot. He is my fiancé whether either of us likes it or not, and if I ever catch any of you making fun of him again, you will be in St. Mungo’s for the rest of your lives. I may not want to marry him, but I will not tolerate anyone harming what is _mine_.”

They could only nod and watch her leave, awestruck; Snape had said almost the exact same thing, minus the personal threat to them, during his discussion with the three men, when they’d asked if he was sure he was willing to go through with everything.

She reclaimed her place between the twins on the couch, both of whom draped an arm around her. Ginny was wrapped securely in Harry’s arms, and Hermione was leaning on Ron, for once at ease. Harry asked what Remus wanted to talk to her about, but she only told him the part about asking of she was alright, not realizing that they’d all caught the end of her threat.

Someone apparated straight into the small sitting room. The three girls squealed in shock and mild fear, and the boys drew their wands while simultaneously moving to shield the girls.

“Bloody hell,” Ron finally breathed. “Be careful where you apparate, mate.”

“Be careful who you aim your wand at, Weasley,” Snape retorted. All wands dropped and the girls came out from behind their would-be protectors. Severus looked at each teen in turn, stopping on Ceridwen. “You. Come with me.”

She quirked and eyebrow, along with everyone else in the room. She would have laughed at that had she not felt like he was ordering her around. “Where are we going?”

“Spinner’s End.”

“What for?”

He exhaled sharply, fixing her with a glare and clenching his teeth for a moment. “Why do you _think_ , Sheridan? You know I do not live here.”

She blushed. “Oh. Right. I suppose…the Ministry will expect us to be living together.”

“How very observant of you. Now, get up, I haven’t got all day to wait for you to make up your mind. We have errands to run.”

She smiled ruefully to the friends that were brothers and sisters to her and took the arm Snape offered her. With no further warning, he apparated them to a grey street before the front steps of a house that she assumed to be Snape’s home on Spinner’s End. He led the way to the door, temporarily removing the wards to allow them access.

Books. Every wall was covered in bookshelves that couldn’t possibly hold more than they already did. The small sitting room at the front of the house was more like a library, with its two armchairs, an end table between them, a lamp, a desk facing the front window, and a fireplace, all surrounded by books on three walls. A small hallway showed a door leading to a drawing room, nearly the same as the sitting room but with a loveseat in place of a desk, and again surrounded by bookshelves. Snape’s study and personal lab were across the hall behind locked doors. Apparently she wasn’t to go into either of them without him. His kitchen was small and looked like he never used it, which would be changing—she’d never been able to grasp how to charm things into cooking for her.

He didn’t show her his bedroom, as he rightly assumed that she would want to sleep in separate rooms until a child prevented them from sleeping separately. The room that would be her sanctuary in the small house contained a canopy bed with an emerald green duvet and matching pillows, a black wingback armchair, an ebony bedside table, and an equally dark dresser that was home to a lamp. Her study was small and contained only a window looking out onto the street, a desk, a chair and stationary equipment, but she didn’t mind; she could add to it later if she wanted. He showed her the bathroom last, and then hurried her back downstairs.

Once he’d donned his robes, and she hers, he apparated them to Diagon Alley, taking off before she had a chance to let go of his arm, for which she was grateful, otherwise she would have lost him in the throng of people bustling about. He took her to Gringotts first to arrange for all of her funds to be moved to his account on January 1st, and then whisked her right back out.

“I was informed by Nymphadora that an engagement party is to be thrown at the Burrow next weekend for half the Order, and then Molly walked in and bloody ordered me to take you shopping for something to wear,” he told her, having to place his mouth at her ear so she could hear him over the crowd. Soon after, he steered her to the left and all but shoved her through the doors of a little boutique. “Molly also mentioned it’s supposed to be rather cool that night, so get something floor-length, but other than that, pick out what you want, don’t worry about the price; I assure you that money will not be an issue for you for the rest of your life. I will be on the other side of the store looking for dress robes Molly would deem appropriate. Should you finish before me, I’ll be easy to find.”

Ceridwen nodded, and he drifted to the men’s side of the store, leaving her to her own devices. A saleswoman asked if she’d like some help, so Ceridwen asked if she could tell her what her measurements were and if she could bring out dresses fit for an engagement party. She’d much rather be shopping with Ginny and Hermione, but she would probably be able to tag along whenever they bought their dresses.

The poor saleswoman brought out at least ten dresses for Ceri; she couldn’t decide which one she wanted, and she was starting to think she might walk out empty-handed. Snape came over while Ceri was twisting around to see the back of a black sheath she had put on for the third time.

“Have you found one yet?”

“No,” she snapped, annoyed beyond thought. She stepped off the little dais and back into the changing room. “I have ten bloody dresses back here, and none of them look right on me. Ugh, I’m ready to walk out and come back another day.”

“Stay there for a moment. I believe I saw something on my way here that might suit you, and it looks about your size. I’ll be right back.”

She waited impatiently, roughly taking the dress he passed under the door to her. She freed it from its protective plastic and slipped in, barely managing to zip it on her own; she’d sent the saleswoman away ages ago, so she had no help.

Ceri emerged from the changing room, going straight for the little dais. The dress was a dusty emerald green with a wrapped bodice, held up by a single strap in a white rose design peppered with crystals, which also started just below the center of her chest and trailed to the left side of her ribcage. She spun to look at the back, delighting in the way the excess chiffon flowed freely around her, looking almost like it was caught in the wind.

“Well?” Snape prompted.

“I love it, actually. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Right, then, go change and I’ll pay for it and my things, and then we’re heading home.”

Her newly bright mood disappeared. After changing, she reminded him half-heartedly that she still needed shoes jewelry to go with the dress, at which he grunted and waved her off to go find them, waiting impatiently for her return. She selected a simple crystal necklace, bracelet and earrings, along with a strappy pair of white heels. Once he paid for everything, she grasped his forearm and he apparated them to his house for the second time.

She stared at it for a moment before he realized she hadn’t followed him to the door. “What are you gawking at? Come on.”

“Sorry, I just don’t think of the Snape family residence when I hear the word ‘home.’”

He pursed his lips. “Well, start. This house is your new safe haven.”

She barked a laugh as she entered the place, again struck by the number of books he owned, and heard him close the door behind her. “I will never be able to think of this place as a safe haven, Professor, I’m sorry.”

Snape smiled sadly, not needing to be warned that if she told anyone he had smiled at all, he would swiftly have her committed to the mental ward at St. Mungo’s. “You are marrying a professor, Miss Sheridan. Word will get out eventually; not many will be accepting of it. Rita Skeeter is going to run with it. People will ridicule us both, and this place will be the only peace you have. It _will_ become your sanctuary, I promise you that, if for no other reason than people are cruel.”


	3. Speculations

Ceridwen was impatient for the next week, desperate for Friday to come to she could be among her friends again—and among people who would willingly speak to her. She bustled about the small house in Cokeworth, England, cleaning unnecessarily between reading her fiancé’s books because there was nothing else to do. She was probably infuriating him with her constant rushing around every other day, but she didn’t care anymore. If he was going to lock himself in his study or lab all day and refuse to acknowledge her very existence, she’d do what she bloody well pleased.

_Pigheaded Slytherin._

He surprised her Wednesday night by joining her in the sitting room with a book.

She stared at him for a moment, then blurted in a shrill voice, “What are you doing here?”

Severus looked at her with a scowl. “I live here, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Actually, if I didn’t already know, I wouldn’t have thought you lived here for the past week. You’ve been hiding away in your study or lab for, what, six days? Awfully rude, if you ask me, ignoring your sodding fiancée for nearly two weeks straight.”

He snapped his book shut and dropped it on the small end table. “You appear to grow bolder each time we talk, Miss Sheridan.

She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you forgot I’m a Gryffindor and friends with Hermione Granger? And I _am_ named after the goddess of poetry; perhaps she bestowed some of her eloquence on me as a reward.”

“I’m sure your mother and father are absolutely _thrilled_ about that,” he said dryly, picking up his book again.

Her face fell; she twisted her hands together in her lap and spoke quietly, “My mum was killed because I snapped at a Death Eater without thinking. My father blames me— _passionately_ blames me—and…he’s right to. So, no, I imagine they’re both rather disappointed by my sharp tongue.” She left the room to prepare dinner in the small kitchen without a second look at him.

Snape stared after her, feeling like a fool. He’d known all that, but he’d spoken without thinking. Berating himself for his stupidity, he followed her into the kitchen after tossing his book in the chair he’d occupied.

“Miss Sheridan, I—”

“Don’t, please. I honestly don’t want to hear it,” she said as she roughly opened and closed drawers and cabinets in search of what she needed. Finally, she scoffed and growled, “ _Accio_ mixing spoon!” before addressing him again. “You of all people should have been able to hold back from a comment like that, with the father you had. Granted, mine only started hating me when Mum died…” Her eyes showed a faraway look for a moment and she swayed on her feet. She shook herself. “I’ll get over it. Just leave me alone. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

He left her standing at the counter, gripping its edge. Pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked, he started up the stairs to change into his nightclothes.

“Snape!” she called.

“What?” he yelled back.

“Quit calling me Miss Sheridan! At least when we’re alone. It’s annoying. I mean, for the love of Circe, we’re bloody engaged.”

“As you wish…Sheridan.”

He heard her groan and chuckled to himself, reaching the top of the stairs. He didn’t bother closing his bedroom door as he changed; they were alone in the house, as always, and she was busy cooking—the Muggle way, for some strange reason. If he’d been paying attention, though, he would have heard her quietly ascend the stairs. If he’d bothered to listen, he would have heard the feather-light sound of her footsteps halt at his door and turned to see her staring at him with a wistful expression clear on her face. He would have heard her soft sigh of disappointment as she thought about their future, forgetting what she’d come upstairs for in the first place.

_Any children we have will never know what it’s like to grow up with parents that love each other. They’re never going to get to know their father beyond the harsh and demanding Potions Master. He’ll never even be around enough to raise them, will he?_

Severus tugged his shirt into place and turned around to head back downstairs, almost running into Ceridwen. Frowning something vicious, he opened his mouth to spit an annoyed comment at her, but his words fled him when he saw the moisture in her eyes. The protector in him reared its head. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? I didn’t feel anyone break the wards.”

“N-Nothing. Just some frightening thoughts, is all.”

“Alright, if you say so…is dinner nearly done, then?”

“Shit!”

He shook his head as she raced back to the kitchen. Whatever she’d had in the oven was burnt beyond repair, so he charmed some things to cook for them rather than let her start all over again. He _did_ have it in him to be a gentleman, after all; he just did his damnedest not to show it. 

* * *

 

By midday on Friday, Ceri was sure Severus would drive her to madness. “Will you hurry up?” she called up to his room from the front door. “If we’re late because you can’t remember how your bloody robes go on, I will murder you!”

He made a few frustrated noises, but didn’t directly answer her. She huffed and stomped up the stairs.

She found him standing at the foot of his bed, decked out in black dragonhide boots and black slacks, black dress shirt, and a black waistcoat. All she could make out of the robes were that they were primarily silver, with green and white designs covering it. Easily catching one of the sleeves, she worked out which side was which and held it up for him to slip his arms through. Once he had it settled, she could see that green snakes were intertwined with white ones all along the edges and seams of the fabric.

“You look brilliant.”

“Don’t toy with—” Snape had finally turned his gaze on her, then, having kept her out of his direct line of sight while she was helping him.

The dress he’d found for her looked as perfect on her as it did they day he bought it, but she’d added a silver necklace with a simple, clear crystal point pendant and matching earrings, as well as a bracelet, smaller versions of her pendant ringing her left wrist. Her midnight hair was mostly pulled back in an off-center, partial up-do of some sort. She’d curled it somehow, and a few strands had escaped to frame her face and flow halfway down her back.

He stammered a bit. “I assure you, no one will be looking at me.”

Her cheeks colored. “Thank you, sir.”

Snape nodded once and offered her his arm, disapparating them from his home to the Burrow when she took it. She didn’t let go as they crossed that yard to walk through the open door to be greeted by Ginny.

“Well don’t you know how to clean up!” Ceridwen gushed to the red-head, who wore a floor-length, sapphire-blue gown of the same material as her own, with a sweetheart neckline and silver accents on the straps, along the line of the bodice, and in a simple but elegant design on her back. The only jewelry she wore was silver-and-blue earrings, not that she needed anything else. “You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you, so do you! Lord, this dress is fabulous!”

Hermione arrived then, and all three’s eyes widened at her strapless crimson dress with a slit up the left side, stopping halfway up her thigh and met by an intricate, black lace pattern.

“What?” she asked.

“I can’t even begin to predict what Ron will do when he sees you,” Ceridwen answered.

“I think I know,” Ginny added with a wicked grin.

“Ginerva Weasley!” Hermione exclaimed, scandalized.

The boys—conservatively dressed in black slacks and blue and red dress shirts to match their dates, came to say hello to the newly-arrived, stopping in their tracks when they saw Hermione, and Ron muttered, “Bloody hell…”

“Oh, stop it! Let us come in.”

The five of them meandered their way through the house, giving out their greetings and compliments and such. Ceridwen split from Severus’ side as soon as was socially acceptable to talk to her two girlfriends.

“Okay, spill,” Ginny said the moment they were safely in the back yard, out of Snape’s hearing range at their place next to the buffet.

“The only time we’ve even talked since the last Order meeting was two days ago. He’s always hiding in his damn study or playing in his lab. Hell, I hadn’t even _seen_ him until Wednesday night, either!”

Hermione made an indignant noise. “Rude. You’d think he would at least be civil to you!” 

* * *

 

Inside, Severus was standing with Minerva with a drink in his hand. She wasn’t engaged due to her exemption from being a widow, but she’d come to support her friends and students. Snape was venting to her as low as he could.

“I swear, Minerva, she’s going to drive me up a wall.”

“Now, Severus, you’ve got to at least _try_ to have a relationship, even if it’s only as friends,” the older witch reasoned.

“ _She is insufferable_ ,” he said hotly through clenched teeth. “I’ve barely ever gotten a response from her that wasn’t some witty remark or another—”

“Sounds like a wizard I used to teach,” she interrupted with a pointed look.

“I was different,” he argued.

“How so?” Minerva challenged.

“Well, for starters, I…I didn’t…”

The headmistress raised an eyebrow.

He swore. “Alright, fine, she’s just as sarcastic as I am. So what? I was friendless—she’s got the entire Weasley clan wrapped around her finger, plus Potter and Granger. And you, I’m sure.” He crossed his arms, careful not to spill his wine, regrettably the strongest drink he could find.

“I still think you should try to befriend her. After her mother’s death and the way her father treated her…she deserves a platonic marriage, at the very least. And so do you, for that matter,” Minerva told him sternly.

“So glad you added me on there at the end.” As if her parental issues were so much worse than his? His father had terrorized him and his mother for years; her problems were only just beginning.

“Severus,” Minerva chided, guessing his thoughts, “in her mind, she carries the blame for what happened, you know that. I know you can see past the happy façade she puts up.”

Oh, he saw it, and he heard it, too. She cried herself to sleep every night, but he wasn’t the type of man who knew how to handle crying women, so he let her be. _That’s probably not such a good idea, now that I’m thinking about it…_

* * *

 

The three girls were interrupted by the twins, who each claimed one of Ceri’s sides, glasses of wine in their hands, bright smiles on their faces.

“Oh, no, I know those faces,” Ginny said. “What are you scheming?”

“Nothing, actually, just came over—” George began.

“—to see how our adopted sister’s doing—” Fred continued.

“—with the bat of the dungeons.” George finished.

Ceridwen chuckled before repeating her story of the last week, with Ginny and Hermione adding the few details there were. The twins fabricated dramatic reactions of outrage before descending into giggles, but then voiced true concern for their friend. She assured them that she was fine; she could handle Severus Snape when he stuck to his usual snarky comments. Sadly, however, they also asked if she’d been coping any better with the traumas from last year. She’d sent her father plenty of letters, but hadn’t had a single response in months; nightmares of her mother’s death still taunted her in her sleep. No, she was not coping any better, unless one counted her ability to simply hide her grief from everyone else. At that admission, each of her friends took turns hugging her and giving her various words of advice or comfort.

“We’re sorry, dearest—”

“—feel free to come stay with us—”

“—if you need somewhere to go.”

She smiled sadly. “Thanks, guys, that’d be lovely.”

Harry and Ron rejoined their dates when they were sure all the girly talk was over with, and the group of teenagers wandered around the Burrow, trying to forget about the reason they were all there in the first place. 

* * *

 

Severus watched her from the back door as dusk settled around the house, one hand stuffed in his pocket, no expression on his face or in his eyes. She was breathtaking, he had to admit that; even next to Miss Granger’s rather out of character choice of dress and similar hairstyle, in his opinion, she outshined every woman there that night. He wondered if he could ever give her what Minerva so adamantly insisted she deserved. He wasn’t sure he could ever really think of her as his friend, but maybe he could be one to her. She _had_ gone through a hell of a lot with the Golden Trio, short of hunting Horcruxes with them; instead, she’d stayed behind with the rest of Dumbledore’s Army, keeping the students up to par on what they so desperately needed to know in order to survive, even while he was headmaster.

She was clever, that one.

Arthur joined him at the door, following his gaze. “That girl is spectacular, Snape. You’re actually quite lucky, if you ask me. I’ve never met anyone else with such a passion for life, or a more protective nature.”

“What do you mean, Arthur?”

“Oh, you should have seen her in the Battle of Hogwarts, firing off curses so fast I thought she’d stumble over her own words whenever she was cornered.” He paused and gave a short, single bark of laughter, sounding incredibly proud as he went on to say, “And then she went and took a right painful curse for a group of first years caught in the fray. Once she found them, she never left them. If Bill and Fleur hadn’t been around, she would have died defending them.”

Severus didn’t reply right away, instead choosing to study his fiancée, both arms wrapped around Fred and George while each of them had an arm draped around her. He found himself biting back a low growl of possessiveness. “She’s a right piece of work, isn’t she?”

“She really is.” The red-headed man suddenly turned to Snape, looking serious. “Severus, that girl has no blood family left; she’s a daughter to me and a sister to all of them. You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”

He didn’t look at the man, but Arthur knew that was only because he was carefully choosing his words. “As I said before, I protect what’s mine. Be that from rogue Death Eaters or the darkness of her own mind, I will do everything in my power to keep her safe, whether she wants me to or not.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“And…” Severus whispered; Arthur strained to hear him, “any and all children we have will not want for anything. I daresay I’d even love them.” His head snapped around to peer at the other man, eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare repeat that to anyone. Not even Molly,” he ordered sharply.

“Of course, Severus.” 

* * *

 

Ceridwen didn’t show it, but she felt Severus’ stare like fire on her skin. With a warning to not be obvious about looking, she told her friends she thought he was watching her, and they each confirmed her suspicion with surreptitious glances to see who the tall figure in the doorway was. A debate as to why was sparked and then fed when the Weasley patriarch joined him.

When the sun finally sank below the horizon, they all returned to the house. Ceridwen said reluctant farewells to everyone she knew well before grudgingly returning home with her fiancé, this time not noticing how he watched her or the way his eyes lit dangerously every time she hugged one of the males goodbye.


	4. Tears of an Angel

Severus apparated them home in a foul mood. Ceridwen didn’t know what on Earth could be his problem or if his attitude was because of her, so she didn’t talk to him as they went to their rooms to get settled and take showers. She let him go first; he seemed more in need of the hot water than she was at the moment. When she heard him turn the water off, she shook her hair out the rest of the way and reached for the zipper of her dress, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten to it before.

“Uh, Professor Snape,” she called awkwardly when the bathroom door opened. “Could you undo my zipper, please?” She put her back to him in the doorway, afraid to even look at him in case he declined.

He sighed. In a few seconds, he was pinching the top of the back of her dress and dragging the zipper down until it stopped at her hips. Cold air hit her bare skin when he let go, allowing the fabric to fall open.

Expecting him to have walked away already, Ceridwen slipped the one strap down and off her arm and turned around, smacking into him. He was still wet; a towel wrapped low around his hips was the only thing he had on. Severus stared down at her wide, amber eyes a moment before he spoke.

“You know…” he drawled, “You’ve got this thing called a wand. You can use it for all sorts of magical things—undoing the zipper on your own being one of those things.”

“I guess I didn’t think of that,” she said nervously.

He leaned down to put his lips next to her ear. “You should have,” he breathed. “I know you’re not naïve enough to believe that even helping a woman with something as simple as a zipper does not put thoughts in men’s heads.” A single long, pale finger traced a path up and down her arm. “Especially men with no proper clothes on.”

She blushed furiously and shivered. He was toying with her, right? He had to be! No professor in his right mind would think of a student that way. But then again…they’d be married soon enough. He was basically exempt from normal professor behavior where it came to her. “I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t thinking.”

He straightened and left her standing there, looking baffled. “I thought as much,” he called over his shoulder before shutting his bedroom door.

Ceridwen tried not to faint in the shower and avoided looking at him for the next few days. He teased her relentlessly about the little incident, and she let him, having suddenly lost her Gryffindor courage. However, when her embarrassment wore off and annoyance took its place, she finally gave him a devious smirk instead of a blush. He’d been sitting at one end of the sofa in the drawing room, while she was in an armchair. Slowly, she rose from her seat to kneel on the sofa next to him. His smirk had long since disappeared, and she could tell he was trying to keep his face blank as she moved closer and closer, biting her lip.

She felt evil, but she knew he’d see it as mostly-playful revenge and nothing more. Their noses were nearly touching as she purred, “Now, why would a man as sexually disinterested in his fiancée as you are remember what color her bra was…five days ago?” Of course, it’d been a rather bright color, but he had honestly confused her there.

“It wasn’t exactly subtle,” he muttered, breath becoming ragged now that she was practically straddling him.

Her smirk turned into a full-on smile. She glanced pointedly at his heaving chest. “It seems I’ve remembered how to…entertain…a man’s thoughts, wouldn’t you agree?”

He swore.

“Thought you would.” She went back to her chair, still smiling.

“ _That_ was not fair, Sheridan.”

“Okay, for the tenth time today: _Ceridwen_. And neither was ambushing me with your almost-nakedness the other day.”

He snorted. “Oh, sure, because asking me to undo a zipper that long doesn’t have ‘seduce me’ written all over it.”

“It didn’t!” she insisted. “I just couldn’t reach it!”

“You managed just fine in the fitting room.”

“Yes, well, I forgot how I reached it that time. _Sue me_.”

He rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I’d rather marry you. Going against Ceridwen Sheridan in civil court would be a nightmare.”

She beamed. “I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

She widened her eyes, giving him the best puppy-dog eyes she could manage, and said, “But you’re supposed to be nice to me.” She made her lip quiver.

Her fiancé was not fooled; his leer made that obvious. “I don’t think you can handle my version of ‘nice.’”

Ceridwen felt her cheeks heat. “What makes you say that?”

“Your blush.”

“Not fair!”

“‘All’s fair in love and war.’”

“Oh, so you love me now?”

He gaped, feeling awkward, but he didn’t know why. “Of course not.”

“Of course.” Checking the time, she stood again, this time to leave the room. “What would you like for dinner?”

“Honestly?”

“Um, yes?”

“As long as you make it, I do not particularly care.” He rose to follow her to the kitchen, finding that he didn’t want to be alone at the moment. For some reason, he cycled through feeling antisocial and wanting company at random.

“Wow. At least I can do one thing right in this.”

“’This’?” he inquired as he claimed one of the two chairs at the small dinner table.

“Ah, ‘this’ being…us, I guess. I’ve never been good in relationships; just ask the others.” She rummaged around his refrigerator to find what she needed for chicken and cheese quesadillas and chipotle sauce. “You could probably say in truth that this stupid marriage law saved me from life as a spinster.”

“Or a Weasley. The twins seem rather fond of you.”

She chuckled, preparing the chicken to go in the oven. “Oh, please! Even if I liked either of them that way, I wouldn’t have a chance. They call me ‘sister’ in some way, shape or form every day I talk to them.”

Severus leaned back on the wall, greatly amused that she didn’t see what he did. “Witch, you have that entire family wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. Even Potter and Granger were gravitating to you at the party.” Damn, he hadn’t meant to let her know he’d been watching her.

“I put myself in the middle on purpose. I may have a strong wand, but rowan wood and unicorn hair are loath to perform Dark Magic.”

Good, she missed it. “I heard you were cursing Death Eaters rather easily.”

“I carried another wand with me to use against anyone or anything of the Dark that might come after me.” She started on the sauce, and then his comment a moment ago registered. “Wait. You _were_ watching me! What for?”

“Curiosity.”

“That’s not what the gang said,” she replied in a sing-song voice.

“Pray tell, what did ‘the gang’ say?”

She took the chicken out of the oven to started cubing it. “Oh, nothing, just that you might like your situation after all—or, at the very least, that you don’t _dislike_ it.”

“On the contrary—I dislike it entirely. And before you get your feelings hurt, no, it’s not because of you.”

Ceri faced him and leaned back on the counter, waiting for the cheese to melt enough. “Who are you and what have you done with Severus Snape? You’ve given me two half-compliments this evening and we’ve just had a normal conversation.”

“Gods. You’re taming me.” He smirked. “Is that done yet?”

She twisted to check, then turned all the way around and levitated the food onto two plates. “Yes, just let it cool down on its own. Using a charm cools it too quickly.”

The food had just lost enough heat that it wouldn’t burn their mouths when someone knocked on the door. Ceri volunteered to get it, but Severus held his wand ready from the sitting room. She opened the door to reveal a balding, plain-looking man in Muggle clothing.

“Miss Sheridan?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ I just have a few questions for you. May I come in?”

“Questions about what? And you’re not stepping foot through my door until I see some proper identification, sir.”

Severus held back a grin. She was only easy when she wanted to be.

“My apologies, Madame. Agent O’Reilly of Scotland Yard.” He showed her his badge.

Severus hurriedly put away his wand as Ceridwen ushered the man into the house and led him to the drawing room; he closed the door behind them, politely waiting for Ceri to introduce him. O’Reilly glanced at the taller man, clearly nervous. Severus chuckled low in condescension.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Agent O’Reilly, this is my fiancé, Severus Snape.”

“Fiancé?”

The couple scowled, both insulted by the thinly-veiled disgust in his tone and the look he threw Ceridwen’s way. Severus mouthed, “Legilimens,” too low for the man to hear, entering his mind smoothly. Once he got past the infuriating thoughts at the front of O’Reilly’s mind—which mostly consisted of assuming Ceridwen was pregnant—he found what he wanted and relaxed in knowing the shorter man was just rude. It took only half a second.

“Yes, I am her fiancé, and I love her more than anything in this world. I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself,” he snarled.

“You’d do best to listen to him, Agent. His temper is not something to toy with. Why are you here?”

“Has he hurt you?”

“Sir, if I have to ask you why you’re here a second time, _I_ will hurt you,” she said sweetly.

O’Reilly huffed like a five-year-old. “You know your father worked in the guard before he moved to Australia.”

“Point being?”

“He’s informed us that he’ll be remaining in Australia.”

“I only have so much patience. Get on with it, O’Reilly, or I’ll have Severus toss you out the door.”

“He specifically requested that you never follow him there.”

“Excuse me?” Severus finally spoke up.

“Well…”

“Spit it out, man!” he roared.

“Basically, he’s disowned her. My reason for visiting was also to make sure she had a place to live with someone related to her in some way.” When Severus opened his mouth, he quickly added, “You count! A fiancé is on the list of people allowed to house her, per her father’s orders.”

Ceridwen’s head was in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. “Why are _you_ telling me?”

“I was his partner. Everyone thought it would be right.”

“Fine. Please leave, sir.”

Severus escorted him to the door, hearing Ceridwen race upstairs and slam her door. He rushed after her; he couldn’t ignore the cruelty of what her father had just done. He easily broke her wards, as they were weak from the despair flooding through her. He found her curled into a ball on her bed, alternating between sobs and desperate mutterings that she had to be dreaming or O’Reilly was a liar. He stood at the foot of her bed, not knowing what to do.

Out of nowhere, she sprang upright and smiled at him as if he was the most amazing person in the world. “ _You_ wouldn’t lie to me! My father didn’t disown me. O’Reilly was lying.”

Severus choked up for a moment. She might not be the most emotionally stable person in the world, but this…this level of hysteria was a bad sign. “No,” he eventually breathed, his voice breaking on the small word. “No, he wasn’t lying.”

“Oh, gods…” She crumbled before his eyes, curling into a ball again. A silent scream preceded her sobs as she pressed her arms into her abdomen; he knew that small action made her feel like she could hold herself together, keep herself from breaking, by forcing the pieces of herself to stay in place.

He gingerly sat on the edge of her bed to stroke her hair; it was the most he knew to do. Clearly not thinking about who he was, she attached herself to him as another sob shook her and dragged him onto his back, clinging to him for dear life. He let her cry into his shoulder, tentatively circling an arm around her. When it was evident that she would not let him go any time soon, he pushed his boots off with his feet and slid the rest of the way onto the bed, managing to do it in a way that didn’t sever her hold on him. He used his wand to rid them of their outer layers and move the blankets over them, and stroked her hair some more until she fell asleep, following suit not much later. 

* * *

 

Ceridwen woke the next morning feeling like someone had cut out her heart and for once _not_ excited about the Order meeting scheduled. She could tell Severus was already awake; she propped her chin up on his shoulder to study him, and he studied her.

“I guess it wasn’t a nightmare, after all,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.” Her voice was flat; she laid her cheek back on his chest. “What time is it?”

“Around eleven fifty, I think. You were restless last night, so I kept you asleep as long as I could. We should leave in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” She ambled around her room in search of clean robes as he went to find clothes for himself, too. Five minutes later, she hugged him around the waist for him to apparate them to Grimmauld Place.

Her friends knew right away that something was wrong, but Severus’ warning look kept them from bombarding her. He covered her ears and quietly told them, “Her father’s former co-worker paid us a visit last night. She’s been officially disowned.”

They all gasped at once, again trying to go to her.

Severus kept his hands over her ears. “No, not now. Trust me, she won’t let me go no matter what you do.” He gently urged her to shift her hold around him so they could walk to the kitchen. Molly was the first to see them, but knew well enough to leave the girl be and just moved two of the chairs close together for them. Severus nodded his thanks, letting his fiancée remove her one arm from around his back and cuddle into him again. Pulling her legs onto his lap so she wouldn’t get too uncomfortable, he lulled her into sleep the way he had the night before.

The others waited patiently, their eyes burning to know what could be so wrong as to cause the dour man to let the whole Order see this side of him.

He repeated what he’d told her friends.

“Poor girl,” Remus sympathized. “She loved him so much, and now to be so betrayed…” The werewolf shook his head in disapproval. “That isn’t right.”

“How could he abandon his daughter like that?” Arthur wondered, astonished.

Sirius went to his old rival’s side to study the girl. “That horrid man should count his blessings that he isn’t here. I’m sure we’d all take turns killing him.”

“After driving him mad with Cruciatus Curse,” Snape declared.

“I didn’t realize you cared for her this way,” Molly said.

“You didn’t see her last night, Molly.” He described how she’d acted when he followed her to her room. “And then, this morning…It’s like she’s dead inside. And then this.” He gestured to her sleeping form curling around his like he was her lifeline.

“Merlin’s beard, what happened?” Tonks exclaimed, entering the room.

Severus shushed her, glancing down to make sure his charge didn’t wake. “She had a rough night. Will one of you tell her? I’ve already told the story twice.”

“Can I help Snape hunt down her father and torture him into madness?” She asked after he finished.

“I like her,” Severus stated, pointing to Tonks.

“Great gods! Did Snape just say he likes me, or am _I_ mad?”

Remus smiled and tugged her hand until she sat down next to him.

Snape carefully lifted Ceridwen in his arms to claim the sofa in the sitting room, which Granger and Ginny Weasley relinquished for him, also supplying him with a pillow to put between his arm and the wooden armrest to it didn’t fall asleep on him. He answered the volley of questions they threw at him to the best of his knowledge, almost smiling when Fred weaseled himself into a spot on the couch at Ceridwen’s feet to hold them in his lap and George sat on the floor next to Snape’s legs, as close to her head as he could get.

Silent tears rolled down her face in her sleep; he wiped them away with his thumb. Every so often she would stir, but he would stroke her hair, skim his finger tips from her temple to her collarbone, or tangle his hand the hair above her left ear to calm her—he’d learned a lot about keeping her asleep the night before—but when none of those worked, he would trace her lips, and she would relax.

He didn’t notice her friends looking at him with expressions that made it obvious they were marveling at how well he handled her, and nor did he notice most of the rest of the Order standing in doorway when she was being particularly difficult to placate, all thinking that something was happening between the two, unseen and unspoken.

Severus Snape was going above and beyond his promise to protect her from her own mind—he was caring for her, setting aside his own social reservations to make sure she got the sleep she needed.

 _She’ll rip my reputation to shreds_ , he thought, and instantly regretted it. _No, that’s not fair. Maybe it’s time I drop the act, anyway. Maybe she’s an angel sent to change me._ He internally laughed at himself, wiping more salty tears from her face. _Right. Tears of an angel. How cliché. But I’ll be damned if I’m ever the cause for her to cry._


	5. Recovery Begins

When Ceridwen woke from her three-hour nap with no improvement, Severus opted to keep her at Grimmauld Place for the last two weeks of summer. The twins were glad to sacrifice the only two-bed room in the house for them, but he told them to keep it. He wasn’t keen on the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Ceridwen again, but she clearly needed a massive amount of human contact; sleeping in different beds was out of the question, though he was loathe to admit it, and she couldn’t sleep with someone else—his possessive nature wouldn’t allow that.

He was already at his wits end by the end of the second day, seeing no change in her. The girl was never alone—if she wasn’t fixed to his side, she was with Tonks, Granger, Potter, or one or both of the twins—and yet he still got the impression that she felt dead inside. She hadn’t spoken a single word, either. He didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t know why he cared so much. The Weasleys, who had volunteered to stay at the Order headquarters to help him with his broken fiancée, didn’t know how to handle her, either.

Then, that Saturday, Molly barked at her youngest son to get a move on as he picked at his breakfast. The boy snapped awake, finished his food, and rushed up to his room to get dressed for whatever his mother had planned for him to do that day. Snape flashed back to before he and Lily were accepted at Hogwarts—she’d done the same thing to him when he was down or refused to speak to anyone; it worked every time. She’d make some wild, false accusation to get his attention, he would retaliate by instinct, and they both just brushed off the insults, knowing none of them were said with true malice.

That was before the argument in which he’d called her a mudblood, though. That, she couldn’t forgive, and he didn’t blame her. After all, he probably wouldn’t have, either.

He left his chair to pluck Sheridan from Tonks’ side, calling over his shoulder, “I’m sure you’re all about to hear a lot of yelling. Don’t let it alarm you—it’s for her own good,” as he took her to their room. He didn’t see it, but he was sure Potter was glaring daggers at his back.

She stared vacantly at the floor when he set her on the bed; when she noticed no one was touching her, she looked around, confused, and found Severus standing in front of her with his arms crossed. She said nothing, just turned her gaze back to the floor and fell onto her side.

“Snap out of it, girl!” Snape ordered sharply. “I will not have _my_ fiancée moping around about something so insignificant.”

She _tried_ to glare.

“I will not say it again,” he stated, voice hard. “You’re being extremely immature about it, you know.”

“What would you have me do, then? Act like nothing happened? I was just sodding disowned by the one person left on this planet who was supposed to love me unconditionally!”

“There are other people—people _in this house_ —who love you beyond compare, Sheridan! What would they say if they heard that?” Apparently she didn’t include him as one of those men. That was interesting, considering he was practically required to love her now. _It’s because she knows I never will_ , he decided.

“They would bloody support me!” she screeched. “They would tell me it’s going to be okay and that they love me. A few of them would probably offer to go after him!”

Evidently, she hadn’t heard Tonks ranting and plotting with Sirius, Bill, and himself. “Then why are you so concerned about your father when you _clearly_ have a much better family here?” he demanded.

That brought her up short. “I-I don’t know…” Her face fell. He could see her retreating into herself again.

“Don’t,” he murmured. She looked up, the line between her eyes a silent question. “Don’t do that, if for no other reason that I can’t take it anymore.” _Best to let her take that however she wants._

Sheridan blinked and stared at him.

He stared right back.

“Fine,” she relented quietly. “Um…thank you.”

“Yes, well…” Snape trailed off, turning on his heel to leave the room and descend the stairs. 

* * *

 

Ceridwen entered the kitchen cautiously, almost fearing the reactions everyone would have. No one saw her at first, but then the twins spotted her.

“Merlin’s beard!” George exclaimed.

“Ceri’s back!” Fred followed.

“Would you like some breakfast, dear?” Molly asked.

“I ate earlier, Missus Weasley,” Ceri reminded her with a light, lopsided smile.

“You barely touched your food. And I still insist you call me ‘Molly,’ or even ‘mum’ if you want.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. That was the first time Molly had added the “mum” part out loud, plus they were worried just the word itself would set Ceri off again, though she proved them wrong.

“Thanks...I don’t know what to say, really.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Now, eat a real breakfast this time, okay?” The Weasley matriarch set a plate of toast, eggs, and sausage on the table next to her. Ceri settled in the chair to eat, surprised when her stomach growled loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’ve not had much of an appetite for the past week,” Remus remarked as explanation. “Understandable.”

“A few of us have been planning revenge,” Tonks added with a conspiratorial smirk at Snape, Bill, and Sirius, “if that vile man ever returns.”

Ceridwen half-grinned. “You’ll have to fetch me if that ever happens. I’d like to watch.”

The Auror’s smile grew. “Wouldn’t let you miss it for the world.”

“Greatly appreciated, Tonks.”

“Any time, Ceri.”

“Why didn’t we get invited?” Ron complained, gesturing to his siblings, both blood and adopted, except for Bill.

“Because we called dibs when Tonks brought it up,” Sirius replied.

“And they needed someone to keep an eye on them,” the oldest Weasley son said, eyeing the other three.

“I do not need a babysitter, Weasley,” Severus snapped.

Remus snorted. “Right.”

“Got something to say, Moony?”

“Yes, but this one,” he nodded in Ceridwen’s direction, “will give me a permanent home in St. Mungo’s if I say it. Thus, my lips are sealed.”

Snape quirked an eyebrow, glancing at Ceri before saying to Remus, “You do realize the core of her wand is unicorn hair, don’t you? And that it’s made form rowan wood?”

“’Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn,’ is all I’m saying.”

“Oh, for the love of Circe. Sheridan couldn’t hurt a fly!”

“I disagree with you there, mate,” Sirius countered.

Snape raised an eyebrow again. “You two cannot be serious.”

“Nope, just me. He’s Remus.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Everyone else laughed at the bad joke, but Ceridwen gave Snape a pitying look.

“You walked right into that one, I’m afraid,” she said when the room quieted.

“Indeed.”

“Severus, when are you stealing our Ceri away to the school?” Arthur cut in.

“The thirty-first. Oh, bugger.” His gaze found Ceridwen. “I forgot to tell you that, didn’t I?”

She thought a moment. “I think you mentioned it a few nights ago, but I’m not sure. Sorry…”

He scowled. “For what?”

“Not remembering.”

He waved her off. “I didn’t expect you to remember anything I or anyone else said to you for the last week.”

“Oh…” She finished off the last bite of her eggs and took the plate to the sink, where it washed itself thanks to Molly’s charm.

“What was all the yelling about, by the way?” Tonks inquired.

“It woke her up,” Severus explained. “It infuriates her whenever I get after her about anything.”

“And that’s just when he’s being facetious.”

“It’s ten times worse when I’m serious.”

“I nearly bit his head off.”

The Order gaped.

“What?” Ceridwen asked.

“The two of you—” Fred started.

“—sound like us,” George finished.

The odd couple’s gazes locked in both horror and astonishment, much to the amusement of Fred and George, by whom the collective descent into sniggers was started.

Snape and Sheridan, of course, avoided everyone’s eyes in embarrassment.

Ginny huffed and grabbed Ceridwen’s arm to drag her from the room, pulling Hermione along as well when they passed her. Ceri threw Severus an apologetic glance, since he had no such friends to do the same for him.

The red-head tossed both older girls onto the couch in the sitting room and sat between them. “You’re welcome.”

Ceridwen chuckled. “Thanks.” She rested one hand on the fabric of the couch as the walls tipped sideways.

“So,” Hermione started, angling herself to face her friends, “what’s it like living with Professor Snape?” she asked, no doubt trying to distract her friend with gossip—not that she wasn’t curious, of course.

“It’s quite easy, actually. He’s very low maintenance, I guess you could say—and apparently adores my cooking.” She blinked rapidly a few times, trying to make the room stop spinning; she was getting lightheaded.

Neither girl bat an eyelash that she cooked the Muggle way; they knew how horrible she was at Molly’s charms. Ginny had an altogether different question, anyway.

“He said that?” Her blue eyes couldn’t possibly get any bigger.

Ceri explained the part of their conversation about a week ago where he’d said he didn’t care what was for dinner, just as long as she made it.

“Snape’s in love!” Ginny shrieked, giggling.

“Hush, you!” Hermione admonished. “You know he’s not!”

“He loves Harry’s mum, Ginny.”

“I know,” the sixth-year conceded dejectedly.

“Tell us more,” Hermione chuckled, rolling her eyes at Ginny.

“Arguing is his favorite past time, though I’m sure you both could have guessed that.” She paused, deciding what she should tell them. “Well, that’s really all we’ve done since the dress incident after the party, but—”

“Oi, slow down! What dress incident?!” Ginny demanded.

Ceridwen felt heat rise in her cheeks and knew her face was bright red. “Oh, well, just, you know, I asked him to undo the zipper right after he got out of the shower, without thinking. I didn’t think he would still be behind me when I turned around, so I already had the damn thing down to my waist when I did…” Her hearing was going weird, like she was wearing earmuffs.

They gasped. “What did he do?” Hermione asked.

“Basically, he accused me of trying to seduce him and called me hot at the same time…I think.”

“He did not!” Ginny exploded.

“Shh!” Hermione said again.

“He did,” Ceridwen confirmed. “And then he teased me about it for nearly a weak!”

“What made him stop?” Hermione questioned before Ginny could.

“Dad’s former co-worker…”

“Drat, I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright, ‘Mione.” She forced a smile on her face as Ron, Harry, Fred, and George entered the room, putting an end to the gossip. 

* * *

 

Snape watched Remus and Sirius arguing, glad they were finally done with _him_. Sirius had turned on him the second everyone else was out of the room, earning nothing but sarcasm in return, before Remus jumped in with encouragement for Sirius to watch his tongue before Snape had enough and drew his wand, or worse—told Miss Sheridan.

Severus saw that for the nasty jibe it really was.

He didn’t understand why either of them continued to try his patience when they knew he was a former double-agent and Dark wizard who could magically flatten them both in a millisecond. Remus confused him the most; he was the silently appointed leader of the Order, and he was setting the precedent that it was alright to show disrespect to a fellow member (unless, of course, they needed to keep some kind of cover, like Snape once needed to do).

Remus and Sirius were giving him a headache. Why couldn’t they both just shut up? He’d go to his and Sheridan’s room, but he would still be able to hear them, so there was really no point. Snape rubbed his temples, eyes squeezed shut, tryin not to lose his temper on them both.

Fred Weasley’s panicked voice put an end to the conversation. “Hey, somebody get in here!” he cried, leaning through the slightly open door. “She fainted!”

“Who?” Sirius asked, him and Remus hurrying to follow.

“Ceri!”

Snape bolted from his chair and reached the door first, since he’d been closer. “What happened?” he bellowed.

“I don’t know! One second, we’re all talking and she’s putting on a brave face for us, and the next, she’s falling off the couch and onto George!”

His fiancée was, in fact, awkwardly collapsed in George’s lap. Her head was on his bicep, with her arm pinned between her body and his forearm and her legs folded inelegantly, as if she’d been kneeling when she fell.

“At least you caught her,” Sirius commented; he didn’t know what else to say.

“Did she show any symptoms before she fainted?” Remus inquired.

As Severus knelt next to her to check her pulse and temperature, making sure her condition wasn’t dire, her friends gave Remus variations of, “No,” and, “I don’t know.” Her pulse was fine, but her temperature was low despite the sheen of sweat on her brow, and a subtle tremor was shaking her entire body every few moments. He scowled. She was reminding him of how he’d been after Lily’s death; he’d barely drunk or eaten for the first week and had started trembling and sweating from low blood sugar due to missing so many meals. If his stomach hadn’t started twisting itself inside out, he knew the lightheadedness and dizzy spells would make him faint soon enough.

The line between his eyes deepened. She’d eaten breakfast not half an hour ago; her blood sugar shouldn’t have been a problem, even if it was still low. She shouldn’t have fainted.

“Uh, Snape,” George said, “you’re getting a little scary-looking there.”

Severus cleared his throat and stood. “Get her up on the sofa, will you?” He paced the small amount of room available, everyone watching him intently—and warily. His black robes billowed behind him, flowing out as far as they could whenever he turned.

“Did she drink anything today?” Snape and the twins asked at the same time. Severus pretended to ignore that, somewhat unnerved by it, and waited for an answer.

“I don’t remember seeing her drink, no,” Granger said.

“She’s dehydrated,” Remus concluded.

“Did she ever mention headaches or anything?” Sirius questioned.

Snape shook his head. “I’m sure she had them, but I imagine she’s been numb this week. There were a few times when her hand or arm hit the wall while I was taking her to bed or somewhere. I could tell it hurt, but she never so much as flinched.”

“Why couldn’t you just levitate her?” Potter demanded.

“Harry,” the Weasley girl chastised.

“You know very well she was in need of human contact, Potter. Don’t get snippy with me just because you can’t accept that I want nothing to do with her in that way,” he snapped, guessing the reason behind the boy’s irritation.

Potter crossed his arms, but let the matter drop.

“ _Accio_ cup,” he said, extending his hand for it and using the _Aguamenti_ charm to fill it. Wordlessly, he levitated it to a small end table; he would have her drink it the moment she woke.

The Weasley twins absently played with strands of her hair as they all awaited her return to consciousness, setting Snape on edge. He knew very well she had no feelings for them and that they both were engaged, but the wave of possessiveness that overtook him at witnessing that small, easy interaction was staggering. He crushed it. _You’re being ridiculous. They’re both engaged. So is she._

 _Yes, to_ you _. What a strong case to persuade her to remain faithful with,_ his mind quipped.

_Bugger off._

“What happened?” she groused, pressing a hand to her face.

“You fainted,” Remus explained.

“From what?”

“Dehydration.”

Severus summoned the cup to him and kneeled next to George, holding it out for his fiancée. “Here,” he said quietly, “drink this. Unless you’d rather faint again.”

Frowning, she shakily took the cup from him. George held his hand under it as she drank in case she dropped it, causing Snape to grit his teeth. He should be the one taking care of her in small ways. He should be the one to whisk her out of the room to save her from embarrassment. He should be the one she found solace in, not her room in his house or her friends.

The mischief-making Weasley twins weren’t supposed to be her best friends; that was Severus’ job, and he was failing miserably at it. _Not that you’ve been trying, you foolish man._

“Severus, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve caught someone cheating on a test or something,” Sheridan observed.

Snape chose to stand instead of answering her right away, knowing anything he said could and would be taken differently by all who heard. He replied with, “You’ve knowingly deprived yourself of nearly all food and drink for a week, to the point that you’ve blacked out. What do you expect me to look like, Miss Sheridan?”

She quirked an eyebrow, an action she’d taken to performing more often since she’d been living with him, and completely overlooked all but one part of his short speech. “How many times must I tell you to call me by my first name, Severus?”

“How many times must I tell _you t_ hat I do not take orders from my students? I must convey my admiration, by the way, at your ability to shut out the more important matter at hand,” he groused.

She rolled her eyes as he wondered how a witch with a rowan wood wand with a core of unicorn hair could have such a sharp tongue. “I’ve started eating again today, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Oh, hush!” she shouted, effectively silencing him with her outburst. “Why must you insult me in order to tell me you’re worried? And don’t deny it, because I know you are, even if it’s just the smallest bit, otherwise you would have let the others deal with me.”

The slightest amount of color was creeping up his neck at being scolded so harshly by her. And with her black hair and pale skin, she nearly reminded him of his mother. He shook his head quickly to rid himself of that relatively disturbing thought. “Miss Sheridan—”

“Ceridwen!” Her eyes were gold fire.

He gritted his teeth. “You are on thin ice.”

She left the sofa to stand before him. “Actually, my dear fiancé, it would seem that _you_ are.”

“Alright, alright, you two. Take your lover’s quarrel elsewhere or let it go,” Remus interrupted.

“We are _not_ lovers!” Snape and Sheridan yelled at the same time, and then glared at each other, both ranting in their heads about how insufferable the other was.

“I would seem as though our Ceridwen is recovering nicely already,” Sirius said into the silence.

“Oh, she’s yours, now, is she?” Severus asked before he could stop himself.

Sheri—Ceridwen crossed her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stammered for a split second before deciding to simply leave the room. “Recovering, indeed,” he muttered to himself. But he couldn’t help wondering if her new, snappish attitude was as much of a shield as his own.

permanent home in St. Mungo’s if I say it. Thus, my lips are sealed.”

Snape quirked an eyebrow, glancing at Ceri before saying to Remus, “You do realize the core of her wand is unicorn hair, don’t you? And that it’s made form rowan wood?”

“’Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn,’ is all I’m saying.”

“Oh, for the love of Circe. Sheridan couldn’t hurt a fly!”

“I disagree with you there, mate,” Sirius countered.

Snape raised an eyebrow again. “You two cannot be serious.”

“Nope, just me. He’s Remus.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Everyone else laughed at the bad joke, but Ceridwen gave Snape a pitying look.

“You walked right into that one, I’m afraid,” she said when the room quieted.

“Indeed.”

“Severus, when are you stealing our Ceri away to the school?” Arthur cut in.

“The thirty-first. Oh, bugger.” His gaze found Ceridwen. “I forgot to tell you that, didn’t I?”

She thought a moment. “I think you mentioned it a few nights ago, but I’m not sure. Sorry…”

He scowled. “For what?”

“Not remembering.”

He waved her off. “I didn’t expect you to remember anything I or anyone else said to you for the last week.”

“Oh…” She finished off the last bite of her eggs and took the plate to the sink, where it washed itself thanks to Molly’s charm.

“What was all the yelling about, by the way?” Tonks inquired.

“It woke her up,” Severus explained. “It infuriates her whenever I get after her about anything.”

“And that’s just when he’s being facetious.”

“It’s ten times worse when I’m serious.”

“I nearly bit his head off.”

The Order gaped.

“What?” Ceridwen asked.

“The two of you—” Fred started.

“—sound like us,” George finished.

The odd couple’s gazes locked in both horror and astonishment, much to the amusement of Fred and George, by whom the collective descent into sniggers was started.

Snape and Sheridan, of course, avoided everyone’s eyes in embarrassment.

Ginny huffed and grabbed Ceridwen’s arm to drag her from the room, pulling Hermione along as well when they passed her. Ceri threw Severus an apologetic glance, since he had no such friends to do the same for him. 

The red-head tossed both older girls onto the couch in the sitting room and sat between them. “You’re welcome.”

Ceridwen chuckled. “Thanks.” She rested one hand on the fabric of the couch as the walls tipped sideways.

“So,” Hermione started, angling herself to face her friends, “what’s it like living with Professor Snape?” she asked, no doubt trying to distract her friend with gossip—not that she wasn’t curious, of course.

“It’s quite easy, actually. He’s very low maintenance, I guess you could say—and apparently adores my cooking.” She blinked rapidly a few times, trying to make the room stop spinning; she was getting lightheaded.

Neither girl bat an eyelash that she cooked the Muggle way; they knew how horrible she was at Molly’s charms. Ginny had an altogether different question, anyway. 

“He said that?” Her blue eyes couldn’t possibly get any bigger.

Ceri explained the part of their conversation about a week ago where he’d said he didn’t care what was for dinner, just as long as she made it.

“Snape’s in love!” Ginny shrieked, giggling.

“Hush, you!” Hermione admonished. “You know he’s not!”

“He loves Harry’s mum, Ginny.”

“I know,” the sixth-year conceded dejectedly.

“Tell us more,” Hermione chuckled, rolling her eyes at Ginny.

“Arguing is his favorite past time, though I’m sure you both could have guessed that.” She paused, deciding what she should tell them. “Well, that’s really all we’ve done since the dress incident after the party, but—”

“Oi, slow down! What dress incident?!” Ginny demanded.

Ceridwen felt heat rise in her cheeks and knew her face was bright red. “Oh, well, just, you know, I asked him to undo the zipper right after he got out of the shower, without thinking. I didn’t think he would still be behind me when I turned around, so I already had the damn thing down to my waist when I did…” Her hearing was going weird, like she was wearing earmuffs.

They gasped. “What did he do?” Hermione asked.

“Basically, he accused me of trying to seduce him and called me hot at the same time…I think.”

“He did not!” Ginny exploded.

“Shh!” Hermione said again.

“He did,” Ceridwen confirmed. “And then he teased me about it for nearly a weak!”

“What made him stop?” Hermione questioned before Ginny could.

“Dad’s former co-worker…” 

“Drat, I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright, ‘Mione.” She forced a smile on her face as Ron, Harry, Fred, and George entered the room, putting an end to the gossip.

Snape watched Remus and Sirius arguing, glad they were finally done with _him_. Sirius had turned on him the second everyone else was out of the room, earning nothing but sarcasm in return, before Remus jumped in with encouragement for Sirius to watch his tongue before Snape had enough and drew his wand, or worse—told Miss Sheridan.

Severus saw that for the nasty jibe it really was.

He didn’t understand why either of them continued to try his patience when they knew he was a former double-agent and Dark wizard who could magically flatten them both in a millisecond. Remus confused him the most; he was the silently appointed leader of the Order, and he was setting the precedent that it was alright to show disrespect to a fellow member (unless, of course, they needed to keep some kind of cover, like Snape once needed to do).

Remus and Sirius were giving him a headache. Why couldn’t they both just shut up? He’d go to his and Sheridan’s room, but he would still be able to hear them, so there was really no point. Snape rubbed his temples, eyes squeezed shut, tryin not to lose his temper on them both.

Fred Weasley’s panicked voice put an end to the conversation. “Hey, somebody get in here!” he cried, leaning through the slightly open door. “She fainted!”

“Who?” Sirius asked, him and Remus hurrying to follow.

“Ceri!”

Snape bolted from his chair and reached the door first, since he’d been closer. “What happened?” he bellowed.

“I don’t know! One second, we’re all talking and she’s putting on a brave face for us, and the next, she’s falling off the couch and onto George!”

His fiancée was, in fact, awkwardly collapsed in George’s lap. Her head was on his bicep, with her arm pinned between her body and his forearm and her legs folded inelegantly, as if she’d been kneeling when she fell.

“At least you caught her,” Sirius commented; he didn’t know what else to say.

“Did she show any symptoms before she fainted?” Remus inquired.

As Severus knelt next to her to check her pulse and temperature, making sure her condition wasn’t dire, her friends gave Remus variations of, “No,” and, “I don’t know.” Her pulse was fine, but her temperature was low despite the sheen of sweat on her brow, and a subtle tremor was shaking her entire body every few moments. He scowled. She was reminding him of how he’d been after Lily’s death; he’d barely drunk or eaten for the first week and had started trembling and sweating from low blood sugar due to missing so many meals. If his stomach hadn’t started twisting itself inside out, he knew the lightheadedness and dizzy spells would make him faint soon enough.

The line between his eyes deepened. She’d eaten breakfast not half an hour ago; her blood sugar shouldn’t have been a problem, even if it was still low. She shouldn’t have fainted.

“Uh, Snape,” George said, “you’re getting a little scary-looking there.”

Severus cleared his throat and stood. “Get her up on the sofa, will you?” He paced the small amount of room available, everyone watching him intently—and warily. His black robes billowed behind him, flowing out as far as they could whenever he turned.

“Did she drink anything today?” Snape and the twins asked at the same time. Severus pretended to ignore that, somewhat unnerved by it, and waited for an answer.

“I don’t remember seeing her drink, no,” Granger said.

“She’s dehydrated,” Remus concluded.

“Did she ever mention headaches or anything?” Sirius questioned.

Snape shook his head. “I’m sure she had them, but I imagine she’s been numb this week.There were a few times when her hand or arm hit the wall while I was taking her to bed or somewhere. I could tell it hurt, but she never so much as flinched.”

“Why couldn’t you just levitate her?” Potter demanded.

“Harry,” the Weasley girl chastised.

“You know very well she was in need of human contact, Potter. Don’t get snippy with me just because you can’t accept that I want nothing to do with her in that way,” he snapped, guessing the reason behind the boy’s irritation.

Potter crossed his arms, but let the matter drop. 

“ _Accio_ cup,” he said, extending his hand for it and using the _Aguamenti_ charm to fill it. Wordlessly, he levitated it to a small end table; he would have her drink it the moment she woke.

The Weasley twins absently played with strands of her hair as they all awaited her return to consciousness, setting Snape on edge. He knew very well she had no feelings for them and that they both were engaged, but the wave of possessiveness that overtook him at witnessing that small, easy interaction was staggering. He crushed it. _You’re being ridiculous. They’re both engaged. So is she._

_ Yes, to  _ you _. What a strong case to persuade her to remain faithful with,_ his mind quipped.

_ Bugger off. _

“What happened?” she groused, pressing a hand to her face.

“You fainted,” Remus explained.

“From what?”

“Dehydration.”

Severus summoned the cup to him and kneeled next to George, holding it out for his fiancée. “Here,” he said quietly, “drink this. Unless you’d rather faint again.”

Frowning, she shakily took the cup from him. George held his hand under it as she drank in case she dropped it, causing Snape to grit his teeth. He should be the one taking care of her in small ways. He should be the one to whisk her out of the room to save her from embarrassment. He should be the one she found solace in, not her room in his house or her friends. 

The mischief-making Weasley twins weren’t supposed to be her best friends; that was Severus’ job, and he was failing miserably at it. _Not that you’ve been trying, you foolish man._

“Severus, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve caught someone cheating on a test or something,” Sheridan observed.

Snape chose to stand instead of answering her right away, knowing anything he said could and would be taken differently by all who heard. He replied with, “You’ve knowingly deprived yourself of nearly all food and drink for a week, to the point that you’ve blacked out. What do you expect me to look like, Miss Sheridan?”

She quirked an eyebrow, an action she’d taken to performing more often since she’d been living with him, and completely overlooked all but one part of his short speech. “How many times must I tell you to call me by my first name, Severus?”

“How many times must I tell _you t_ hat I do not take orders from my students? I must convey my admiration, by the way, at your ability to shut out the more important matter at hand,” he groused.

She rolled her eyes as he wondered how a witch with a rowan wood wand with a core of unicorn hair could have such a sharp tongue. “I’ve started eating again today, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Oh, hush!” she shouted, effectively silencing him with her outburst. “Why must you insult me in order to tell me you’re worried? And don’t deny it, because I know you are, even if it’s just the smallest bit, otherwise you would have let the others deal with me.”

The slightest amount of color was creeping up his neck at being scolded so harshly by her. And with her black hair and pale skin, she nearly reminded him of his mother. He shook his head quickly to rid himself of that relatively disturbing thought. “Miss Sheridan—”

“Ceridwen!” Her eyes were gold fire.

He gritted his teeth. “You are on thin ice.” 

She left the sofa to stand before him. “Actually, my dear fiancé, it would seem that _you_ are.”

“Alright, alright, you two. Take your lover’s quarrel elsewhere or let it go,” Remus interrupted.

“We are _not_ lovers!” Snape and Sheridan yelled at the same time, and then glared at each other, both ranting in their heads about how insufferable the other was.

“I would seem as though our Ceridwen is recovering nicely already,” Sirius said into the silence.

“Oh, she’s yours, now, is she?” Severus asked before he could stop himself.

Sheri—Ceridwen crossed her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stammered for a split second before deciding to simply leave the room. “Recovering, indeed,” he muttered to himself. But he couldn’t help wondering if her new, snappish attitude was as much of a shield as his own. 


	6. Wedding Plans and Schoolyard Bullies

“Ugh, I can’t _believe_ the nerve that man has!” Ceridwen vented once the crack of disapparition informed them all that Snape was gone.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. “Really? He pretended to be a Death Eater for twenty years and you find it hard to believe he’s got _nerve_ , of all things?”

She just glared at him.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Just makin’ a point, love.”

She let it go; she didn’t have the energy to keep picking fights. Besides, Sirius hadn’t done anything—Snape was the one irritating her, like he always did.

She fell back onto the couch between Fred and George, her two best friends in the world and her partners in crime before they graduated, now that George had gotten off the floor and they’d made room for her; each draped an arm across her shoulders after she made herself comfortable.

Ron shook his head, eyebrows slightly raised, and Ginny just stared in awe.

“What?” Ceridwen asked, confused. “Am I missing something?”

“It’s just that…” Ron trailed off, not knowing how to put into words what he was thinking.

“It’s like you’re really their sister sometimes, that’s all,” Ginny filled in for him.

“Mum’s got some explaining to do!” The twins chorused.

The other Weasleys rolled their eyes, but everyone else chuckled.

“Seriously, though,” Ron insisted, “you two treat her like you treat each other. It’s bloody scary sometimes, the way you read each other’s thoughts and react exactly the same.”

All three shrugged, but before they could answer, Ron and Ginny pointed and exclaimed, “See!”

“Hmm. Maybe I’m the half-sister none of you knew about,” Ceri joked with a very twin-like, mischievous smirk.

“What’s all the laughter for in here?” Arthur asked as he entered the room.

“Nothing!” the twins and Ceri claimed, and immediately descended into sniggers.

Arthur rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, taking a rolled-up piece of parchment from his pocket as he walked to where the presently laughing trio sat. He held it out for Ceri, explaining, “Snape’s owl just came with this.”

She took the parchment, seeing that her name was written on it, and frowned. Why would he send an owl when he could just apparate here? Her question was answered in the note itself. “Did his owl not wait for a reply?”

“No, why?”

“Because he’s asking if I’ll go home for dinner tonight—”

“He adores her cooking, apparently.”

“Ginny! He’s asking if I’ll go home for dinner tonight because he wants to discuss something with me and he’d rather not have an audience. He’d offer to have this discussion earlier, but he’s just been informed that O’Reilly—” She choked on her words, having not expected to ever be forced to suffer mention of O’Reilly again.

“What’s wrong, Ceri?” Fred asked, both he and George moving their hands to grasp one of her shoulders in gestures meant to comfort, not understanding the reference to O’Reilly.

“N-Nothing. O’Reilly’s g-going to the house to ch-check up on us, or something. M-Make sure we’re really engaged, the note says.” She took a calming breath, though it did little good. “S-Severus is just going to sh-show him his mum’s engagement ring and m-make a big show of b-being excited about giving it to me.”

“Who’s this O’Reilly character?” George questioned in her left ear.

“The g-guy who used to w-work with my f—my fa—”

“It’s alright, love,” Fred murmured. “We all understand.”

“It’s good that he’s letting you stay here while…that guy…visits,” George added cautiously.

“Yeah, I guess.” After writing a response that she was grateful he was going to let her stay there and that she would apparate home for dinner and handing the parchment to Remus for him to send off, she leaned into Fred, grateful when he wrapped his arm around her again as she gripped George’s hand tightly.

Remus, Arthur, and Sirius all retreated back to the kitchen as the rest of them chattered quietly, Ceridwen giving the bare minimum of attention required to keep up with the conversation. Every now and then, one of them would fire a question at her just to make sure she wasn’t turning catatonic again, but otherwise left her alone; they could see she didn’t want to talk.

Unfortunately, time passed quickly, and before she knew it, it was around the time she usually started on dinner for Severus and her when they were home. She reluctantly bid her friends farewell for the time being, promising them that she would drag him back to Grimmauld Place before bedtime, provided their “discussion,” which she was dreading, didn’t take them well into the night or make her furious enough as to fear splinching herself should she attempt to apparate. 

* * *

 

Severus jumped when she apparated straight into the sitting room, nearly spilling his tea all over himself. “Merlin’s beard, girl. Were you _trying_ to make me scald myself, or was it just a happy accident that I almost did?”

“Sorry,” she said and bit her lip. “I didn’t’ think you’d be out here. I thought you’d be in your lab, or your study…”

He quirked an eyebrow, but decided against carrying that line of conversation further. “What’ll it be tonight, then?” he inquired instead, setting his book on the end table and standing. “You haven’t made me anything in a while. I must admit, I rather missed it,” he blurted, holding back a grimace when he realized how much he’d said, and how easy it was to say. He knew that she knew that he loved whatever she made, but he hadn’t meant to imply that he’d missed eating her food for the past week, or that he assumed she would be preparing the meal, even if she always did, anyway.

Her one-sided smirk told him she’d made the correct inference. “I don’t know. I’ll have to see what’s still good to use.”

“I see.”

She started for the back of the house, where the kitchen was, and called over her shoulder as he followed her, “So, did your little scheme work? And what’s this ‘discussion’ you don’t want an audience for?”

He stopped under the narrow archway that led to the small kitchen, leaning against its frame as he replied with, “He was incredibly nervous to be here with just me.”

Sher-Ceridwen snorted. “I wonder why,” she chuckled, but he could tell it wasn’t a question.

“And I was wondering if you’d started on wedding plans without me knowing somehow, because I haven’t heard anything about them from you.”

She whirled to face him, eyes wide. “Great Merlin, I completely forgot! Bugger! When will we possibly have time to fit a wedding in before New Year’s?”

“Oh, relax. There’s plenty of time for it. Just…make dinner and we’ll talk about it. That _was_ point of coming here, after all.”

“I suppose.” She turned around to resume her search through the small refrigerator in her fiancé’s Muggle-style home, pulling out things she’d need for a salad and a simple, quick pasta dish. She was even able to rope him into helping her a bit to finish mixing the salad while she rescued the pasta from burning in the pot.

“Now, then,” she began as they took their seats across from each other at the table, “When do you suppose we’ll have time for a…a wedding?” _How pathetic; you can’t even say the word,_ she scolded herself.

He waited until he’d swallowed to answer her, and there was no doubt in his mind that neither of them wanted to have this talk, but it needed to be done. “I thought it would be quite obvious. There will be plenty of time over the holidays.”

She actually earned a small smile from him when she sneered at that. “No. Everyone will be doing that. I’d like my anniversary to be mine, not mine, Ginny’s, Hermione’s, Luna’s, Angelina’s—”

“It was merely a suggestion. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

His fiancée’s fork clattered onto her late as she burst out laughing.

Severus scowled. “What are you cackling about over there?”

“You sounded—exactly—like the twins!” she gasped between spurts of laughter.

He rolled his eyes, secretly astounded he could make her laugh without even trying. “Indeed. I suppose the black hair and eyes make the charade even more convincing, don’t they? Next thing you know, everyone will be so convinced I’m one of them, I’ll be running that ridiculous shop with them.”

She only laughed harder, clutching her stomach. “Please, stop! I can’t—I can’t breathe! Sweet Merlin, my sides hurt.”

When he said nothing else and just plastered a smirk on his face, she was able to calm down and resume her meal, her cheeks flushed. “As I was saying…did you have a date in mind?” He took a bite of his salad, awaiting her reply.

“Not really, no. Are there any days besides school days that you’ll not be available?”

He waved his free hand dismissively. “Just make sure it doesn’t fall on a school day. I’ll make sure my schedule is clear.”

She mumbled something as she shoved some pasta into her mouth.

“What was that?”

She swallowed. “I said, I think Fred or George slipped something into your food this morning.”

“Why?” He frowned, genuinely not understanding her comment.

“I don’t know, it’s just…” She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t take you for the considerate type after being in your class for six years.” They both grimaced at that. “Oh, by the way, before we really get into wedding talk, what am I going to do about my Potions class?”

“Minerva’s persuaded the Ministry to let you stay in my class under the stipulation that she ensures I do not favor you over my other students.”

“Fair enough. Now, about the colors…”

They didn’t get much finalized that night other than that they definitely wanted to use their House colors as wedding colors—and unable to choose between red/silver and green/gold—and agreeing to keep the ceremony small and private, with only Order members and Hogwarts staff present (Ceridwen reluctantly allowed him to include the Malfoys after Severus argued that Lucius was the only man he knew well enough to be his best man).

He shocked her even more that night by helping her with the dishes, going so far as to order her from the room and let him do them alone. Ceri suspected he was getting the smallest bit protective of her since her meltdown, but didn’t want to voice her thoughts for fear of chasing this strange, polite, _kind_ Snape away.

However, he noticed the stares she threw his way as he cleaned the kitchen up. “Why are you staring at me like that, Sheridan?”

She ground her teeth together. “Ceridwen.”

“I don’t relish the thought of using Legilimency on the woman I’m supposed to marry before the year runs out, so I suggest you tell me.” He never looked at her, just kept on washing and drying the dishes. She wondered why he didn’t use magic to do it for him.

“Oh, I’m a woman now? I can’t count the number of times you’ve called me ‘girl,’” she countered dryly with one eyebrow nearly disappearing in her hairline.

He finally turned to face her with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Ah, you’ve forgotten the zipper incident, it seems.” Satisfied by the blush creeping up her neck, he faced the sink again. “And I’d rather not call you a girl while I’m talking about marrying you; helps me avoid sounding like a pervert.”

“Always some personal reason for the things you do. Hurry up, the Weasleys, Harry, and Sirius will be missing us.”

“Missing _you_ , more like. All the same, I’m nearly finished.” He paused to look over his shoulder. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know.”

She shuffled her feet, suddenly intensely interested in the tile on the kitchen floor. “I don’t mind waiting.”

“Mm,” was his only response. He dried the last dish and put it back in its cabinet with the others before tossing the dish towel on the counter.

He strode across the room, stopped at her side, and offered up his arm. Still blushing, Ceridwen linked her arm with his, and he apparated them straight into the sitting room of Grimmauld Place, earning the same welcome as the last time he’d done so.

“I don’t understand why all of you dunderheads think an enemy could apparate into the bloody sitting room. This house is unplottable,” he muttered as he stalked away.

Ceridwen and Severus both managed to distract themselves rather successfully in the last few days before they returned to Hogwarts. Snape mainly listened in on Sirius and Tonks’ plots for Ceridwen’s father—always with a smirk on his face—and Ceridwen was persuaded to talk about anything wedding related with her peers.

It occurred to her, at some point over these last few days before the start of term, Ceridwen and Severus, Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione were the only couples that ever seemed to spend any time together. When she asked the group about it, Fred and George confessed that they went out with Cho and Angelina nearly every night, and Sirius went out with Esmeralda quite often, but Ceridwen hadn’t been in a mind to notice. She felt guilty, but she was shushed before her apology even formed. 

* * *

 

When the thirty-first arrived, she and Severus left straight after dinner. Molly fussed over the two so much that even Ceridwen was slightly annoyed, but she hid it much better than Severus to avoid making the woman think she was ungrateful.

It was awkward, for her, to be following the Potions Master to his dungeon chambers, knowing she’d be living there with him according to some ridiculous Ministry decree stating that, under the new Marriage Law, all couples whose engagements were approved were not allowed to live separate from one another. She was just glad Severus had already moved her into his house, but was under the suspicion he saw the decree coming.

His chambers were exactly what she expected: not a hint of color where it could be prevented; everything was black, even the walls and carpet. The only color in the front sitting room was the books lining the shelves on either side of the fireplace. Even the doorknobs were black.

“Where am I sleeping, exactly?” Once she’d returned to normal, they’d quit sharing a bed.

He frowned and thought a moment. “I suppose I could transfigure the couch into a bed and sleep there, unless you’d prefer sleeping in front of a warm fire. The only other rooms I have are my bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a small study. There isn’t enough space in any of them for even a small bed.”

“That’ll work, I guess. Can’t have word getting ‘round that I’ve been bedded by the fearsome Potions Master, after all,” she teased.

He stiffened. Would a rumor like that really be so bad, even though they were engaged? With a defeated sigh, he realized that it probably would. What witch in her right mind would want to shag the Bat of the Dungeons, anyway? Forget about marrying him; he still wondered at the fact she didn’t running screaming away from him when the decision was made against both their wills.

Wondering why he hadn’t fired back some sarcastic remark or another, Ceridwen glanced at Severus and did a double-take. “What’s the matter, Severus?”

He ignored her.

“Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Don’t make me break out the ridiculous nicknames.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a determined look on her face.

Severus sneered at her in hopes of getting her to leave him alone, not for one minute thinking she was bluffing about using the nicknames his students gave him.

She sighed, irritated, before beginning. “Sev.” The sneer fell away. She’d mean _those_ nicknames? Those were even worse. “Sevvie. If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I will use every single idiotic pet name I can think of whenever we’re around other people until you _do_ tell me.” He stared at her with one eyebrow raised, sensing she was starting a lecture. “We may not like it, but we _are_ getting married, and you’re going to have to learn to trust me enough to tell me when something is bothering you. And, believe it or not, I’ve actually enjoyed talking to you in the past few days, when it was just us. I want this to work. I want us to be friends, at the very least, so that our child, or children, will grow up in a loving home with parents who respect and care for each other. And you cannot tell me you don’t want the same for it or them.” She said the last more firmly, clearly hinting at his own upbringing.

He just stared at her for a few moments, but in admiration rather than amusement or annoyance. “You’re much more mature and grown-up than people give you credit for, did you know?”

Ceri huffed out a nervous laugh. She didn’t normally go on long rants like that, and she had almost been afraid he would laugh at her. “No, but thank you. So, can I take that as agreement, then?”

Severus nodded.

She beamed. “Good.” 

* * *

 

Hermione was proudly announced by Headmistress McGonagall as Head Girl the next day, but then received sympathetic looks from her fellow Gryffindors when Draco Malfoy was announced as Head Boy. Most of the remaining Order members that were students—Ron, Ceri, Ginny, and Luna—retained their Prefect statuses from the previous year, while Harry was named Quidditch captain and Neville was happy to be just an ordinary student, with no extra responsibilities.

To save the Head Girl and Boy from too much stress right away, McGonagall had apparently created round schedules for the first week, as the Heads and Prefects found when they retired to their common room after the start-of-term feast. The Heads and seventh-years would be patrolling alone while the others were paired, so they could make sure to keep all the corridors covered.

Ceridwen wouldn’t be patrolling until the next night, so she memorized her two patrol times for that week and headed to the dungeons and Severus’ rooms.

“You’re back early,” he commented from the kitchen.

She redirected her path to find him bobbing a tea bag in a steaming cup. “My friends are all on rounds tonight.”

“When are yours?”

“Tomorrow and Friday.”

“So are mine. I’m sure we can attribute that to Minerva’s meddling. Would you like some tea?” He was already pouring her a cup before she had time to answer, adding two teaspoons of honey along with the tea bag.

“I wouldn’t put it past her. Thank you. I never realized you paid that much attention.”

He shrugged. They took their tea to the sitting room to settle on the sofa, Ceridwen curling her legs underneath her and Severus propping his on the coffee table after pushing his shoes off his feet. He started the fire with wandless, wordless magic, and the place was instantly warmer.

“I pay plenty of attention, Ceridwen.”

She smirked, glowing inside. 

* * *

 

Her entrance into the Great Hall for breakfast, as well as each of her classes, was met with whispers and sneers, mostly from Slytherins. She hid her confusion by shielding her face with her hair, not sure if it was coincidence or if they were talking about her. By the time she entered her Advanced Potions class at the end of the day, though, she was sure they were gossiping about her when the whispering stopped every time she came within hearing range of their conversations.

She claimed a desk at the front so she wouldn’t have to see any of them, which turned out to be counter-productive.

“Why are you sitting up front, Sheridan? Trying to impress Snape?”

“Shove off,” she snapped at whoever it was. Taking points or giving detention would only goad him on, so she didn’t bother.

“No, I get it: he told you he’d shag you if you got your potion right, and you can show him faster if you’re up there.”

“Thirty points from Slytherin,” Severus said, suddenly striding to the front of the room. “Thank your headmistress for making me late.” When he reached the front, he turned to face the class, leaning one hip on his desk. “I see no sense in wasting time with a silly introduction. This is your seventh year in my class, so I expect you to know and abide by my rules. Instructions are on the board. Begin.”

Ceridwen tuned out the rest of the class as she worked on her potion, ensuring it was perfect. She didn’t hear one pair working near her as they continued to make some rather lewd “jokes” until it was time to let the potion simmer in her cauldron.

“Thirty points from Slytherin, and if I hear anyone else verbally attacking either Miss Sheridan or myself, they will spend every night in detention with Filch for a month,” he called without looking up from his parchment. A few minutes later, he left his desk to pace the rows of students, examining their progress and making quite a few jump when he barked out some piece of advice or another.

She focused on her potion again, adding the last few ingredients and beginning the required ten clockwise stirs.

“Miss Sheridan—”

Ceri held up her hand to silence him, ignoring the gasps of a few nearby students, so she didn’t lose count. “Sorry, Se—Professor. What were you about to say?”

“I was just going to ask if you’d stirred it yet, but you’ve answered that already.”

He resumed his pacing, and she started bottling her potion.

“Mister Corner,” Snape said loudly on the other side of the room, “you’ve just earned detention every day for a month. I will inform Filch, and you will meet him tonight directly after dinner. As it happens, class is now over, so bottle up your potions and get out.”

Ceridwen crushed her lips together to keep the smile off her face. _Severus Snape is defending a Gryffindor student._ She stayed behind after turning in her potion to help the other few Gryffindors in the class to avoid having to confront those who had been talking about her during class, and wound up being the last person in the room besides Snape.

“Sheridan,” he muttered, his tone implying a warning.

“…What?” she asked warily.

“Why don’t you fight back?”

“Because there’s no point. Seeing me get worked up only spurs them on even more than when I ignore them.”

“Indeed.”

She gave him a small, crooked smile. “I’ll see you later. Don’t start dueling with the students, mind you.” She started for the door, but paused when he spoke again.

“And why should I listen to you?”

Ceridwen looked over her shoulder, fully grinning now. “Why, Severus, isn’t it always a good idea to listen to your fiancée?”

He raked a hand down his face to hide his own smile, marveling at their easy banter. They weren’t like this a month ago, and in no way was he about to complain.


	7. Fire Meets Fire

By the time she left for rounds that Friday, Ceri had decided to have the wedding on November seventh, the Saturday following Halloween. She was also opted to use red and silver for the wedding colors; she couldn’t see Severus enjoying himself even a little with green and gold everywhere.

She stopped just before turning the corner from her last corridor of the night, thinking she’d heard students shuffling past her in the darkness. When she didn’t see or hear anything for a full minute, she resumed her path only to barrel into a statue she hadn’t known was there. It reached out to catch her, pulling her close to keep her upright, and muttered the _Lumos_ charm just before a lit wand appeared inches from her face. Only, it wasn’t a statue that was holding her.

“Severus,” she breathed. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Clearly.” He didn’t let her go; his hand on her back was warm even through her robes and shirt.

“What are you doing up here? Aren’t your rounds in the dungeons tonight?”

“I finished early and let my mind wander, so I took the wrong flight of stairs and bypassed the first level of them altogether. Then I thought I heard a student out of bed, but I found you instead,” he explained.

He was looking at her funny, but she couldn’t discern the expression in his eyes with the scant light available as her fingers absently found a few buttons on his frock coat to mess with. “I thought I heard someone, too. Guess they managed to get away from us.”

“For once, I find that I don’t mind very much…” His gaze travelled from her eyes to her lips and back again, their expression giving her goosebumps.

She frowned in confusion, tilting her head to one side. “Why do you say that?”

He changed the subject rather than give her an answer. “Have you finalized any more plans yet?”

Her frown deepened. “Yes. You don’t seem like a green and gold sort of man, so I went with red and silver. And I picked November seventh for the date.”

“Have you looked at dresses yet?”

“McGonagall has allowed Ginny and Hermione to go to Diagon Alley with me on Sunday to look for a gown and bridesmaids dresses.”

“Good.”

“…Severus.”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked in a low voice, hypnotized by those damned black eyes of his. She knew he hadn’t slept well the past two nights, but she didn’t think he was _that_ worn out.

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure…like you’re having the best dream of your life, maybe.”

He leaned closer, so his face was as close to hers as the bright tip of his wand. “What if me dreaming is the only reason I can think of that you haven’t pushed me away yet?”

Her cheeks flamed, but she stayed where she was.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a small grin. “What, no fiery comeback?”

“Maybe I’ve just gotten used to you by now. I _do_ remember clinging to you for dear life for a week, and that you were the only thing that kept me warm in that freezing room at night.”

It was his turn to frown. “You do?”

“I just said so, didn’t I?”

“Even with all those blankets, it was me keeping you warm? How did you fare without me, then?”

“Um…I didn’t.” She avoided his eyes, almost afraid of what he’d say to that.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You chose falling asleep cold over coming back to my bed?” Well, he didn’t sound angry…yet. “Do you dislike me that much?” His arm tightened around her fractionally, as if it was instinctual.

“What? No! I was just hesitant to impose on you.”

He scoffed. “Please. I’m your fiancé, not your next-door neighbor. Coming to me for help is not imposing. In fact, I’d like for you to come to me _first_.” He finally let her go, and she almost fell at the sudden loss of support.

“Bloody hell, Snape! You could give a girl some warning next time!” she exclaimed, leaning against the stone wall. She only continued when he looked somewhat remorseful. “And fine, I’ll come to you for help first as much as possible,” she conceded, still irritated.

He nodded, studying her with the same intense expression as earlier.

“Sweet Merlin, Severus. _What_?”

All he did was incline his head towards her and flick his gaze south for half a second.

She looked down and inhaled sharply. She’d changed out of her school clothes for rounds, choosing to patrol in a black, V-neck, long-sleeved shirt and black jeans under her robes, which she’d left open. The shirt had dipped extremely low after running into Severus and being caught by him. She tugged it higher, the blush returning to her face. When she looked back up at him as she fastened the front of her robes closed, she groaned. He was watching her hands.

“What’s the matter with you tonight? I’ve never seen you act this way before.”

He gave her an obviously-fake glare. “What, I’m not allowed to admire a beautiful woman?”

“Alright,” she said, pushing off the wall to put her hands on his chest and ignoring the butterflies that exploded in her stomach. “You need some sleep. Let’s go to bed.”

“Oh, will you be joining me tonight?” He smirked.

“In your dreams.” She attempted to shove him backwards, but he wouldn’t budge.

“How did you know?”

She gaped. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“That depends—what do you think it means?”

“Not a chance, Casanova. Seriously, come on. This was the last part of my rounds; I want to go to bed.” She tried again to push him toward the stairwell leading to the dungeons. Again, he wouldn’t budge, but this time he grabbed her wrists and walked her back until he could pin her to the wall, somehow managing to keep his wand lit and in his hand. “What in sodding hell are you doing?!”

“Answer my question.” There was zero space between them; his hair was even tickling the sides of her face. He was scowling at her, the corners of his mouth no longer turned up in a smirk or tiny smile, with the black depths of his gaze boring into her amber ones, as if he could see into her soul.

She shivered. “Y-You dream about me. Th-That’s what it s-sounded like you meant,” she whimpered.

“Yes, sometimes. Are you afraid?” he purred.

“Yes,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“Don’t be.”

“You’ve got me pinned to the wall, I can’t reach my wand, you’re clearly worlds stronger than I am, you’ve gone mad from sleep deprivation, and we’re alone. Why would I not be?” she murmured.

He sighed and dipped his head even closer, if that was possible, so she felt his breath on her lips. “Because I will never hurt you, Ceridwen; I give you my word on that.”

“How do I know you’ll keep it?” she objected.

“Would you like me to make a Wizard’s Oath?”

She let the tension leave her body. “No. I believe you.”

“Good.”

“Can we go to bed now?”

He didn’t answer right away, choosing to watch her some more. She was about to start fidgeting under his intense stare when he moved to close the gap between their lips.

“Professor Snape,” she whispered harshly. He froze. “You would not be doing this if you’d gotten enough sleep the past two nights.”

“Can’t be sure about that one, Miss Sheridan.”

“Why haven’t you been sleeping properly?”

“I’m an insomniac,” he lied.

“Good to know, now what’s the real reason?”

The man actually bit his lip as he debated whether or not to tell her the truth.

“I’m waiting, Severus,” she said impatiently.

“You don’t have a choice but to wait; you couldn’t move if you wanted to,” he countered.

“Have you forgotten that promise we made to tell each other what’s bothering us?”

Her fiancé hung his head, giving up. “I keep having nightmares of things I’ve done for the Dark Lord. They wake me up, and then I can’t fall back asleep.”

She crooked a finger under his chin to pull his head up and made him look at her. “If you insist that I come to you for help before anyone else, then _I_ insist that you come to me when you can’t sleep.”

“Just because I suffer doesn’t mean—”

“Rubbish. I’m your bloody fiancée. We’ll be saying vows in two months that include ‘for better, for worse,’ so we might as well start practicing now.”

His expression changed from one of reluctance to one more tender than she’d ever seen him give anyone before that moment. “Fine.”

“Can I have my hands back, now? My wrists are starting to hurt.”

He eased up with a grimace, though he didn’t move away or actually let her go, instead examining her wrists closely. There were red, finger-shaped splotches were he’d held her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. You just need some rest.” She gently removed her wrists from his grip to link an arm with his. She tugged lightly, urging him to follow, and led him to their quarters. 

* * *

Ceridwen woke the next morning on her transfigured bed to find Severus already gone, most likely at breakfast, and bruises on her wrists. She searched his medicine cabinet and private stores, but he was out of bruise salve.

“Of course,” she muttered, annoyed. She’d have to go to Madame Pomfrey, and gods knew that was going to lead to disaster.

She dressed in dark jeans, flats, and a deep red sweater, pulling her hair into a braid as she walked through the corridors. When she was gingerly using her teeth to get the hairband off her wrist, she passed Draco and his little band of followers. He gave her a once-over, but Ceri wasn’t quick enough to cover the bruises.

“Late night, Sheridan?” he sneered, mimicking his godfather perfectly.

“You know I had rounds, Draco,” she replied tiredly without stopping.

“Yeah, and I know you ran into my godfather, too. ‘Bloody hell, Snape! You could give a girl some warning next time!’” he mocked in a rather horrible impression of a female voice. “I didn’t know you were an exhibitionist.”

She stopped then and looked back at him with an icy glare. “We were not shagging, Draco.”

The blonde threw his head back and laughed at her, genuinely amused, as his posse chuckled along with him. “Sure, if you say so.” With that, they walked off as Draco called over his shoulder, “Let me know when you’re ready to have a _real_ shag.”

Ceridwen almost turned to find Severus, but cooled her anger just enough that she’d be able to get her wrists healed before she saw him. She knew he’d be livid if he found out he’d hurt her.

Madame Pomfrey came to the same conclusion Draco had when she saw Ceri’s purple wrists, but Ceri was happy to let the old woman think what she wanted; any denial would only encourage her suspicions. She told her charge to wait a moment while she went into her storeroom to find the salve. Ceri nodded before lowering her face to trace the marks, being careful not to press too hard.

The soft whisper of fabric on the floor was the only thing that gave her warning before a quiet gasp sounded above her and to her right. “Was that my doing?” a shocked yet dejected voice asked.

She jumped and turned her face toward it. “Severus!” Rather than answer, she tugged her sleeves back into place. “What are you doing here?”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

She sighed just as Madame Pomfrey returned. “Yes.”

“Severus!” the matronly woman exclaimed, much like Ceri so recently had. “You’re hand!”

Ceri frowned and checked his left hand, confirmed it was fine, and reached around him for the right one, grabbing his forearm to avoid agitating whatever injury he had. He let her take it, clenching his jaw. What she found had her gaping. The once-pale skin was red and angry, blistered, and crisscrossed with shallow cuts. “How did this happen?”

“A pair of fourth year Hufflepuffs decided to have a duel. One of them said a spell wrong _and_ aimed incorrectly. If I’d taken another step, that bloody curse would’ve hit much more than my hand,” he growled. “I handed them off to Sprout so I could get here quickly.”

Madame Pomfrey placed the jar of bruise salve on the bed next to Ceri. “I trust you’ll be able to do that yourself. Just put it on my desk when you’re finished.”

“Yes, ma’am…” Her eyes followed Severus as he was led to a bed across the room and made to sit with his back to her.

She rubbed the salve into her skin mechanically, wincing a few times when she pressed too hard. The second her wrists were the same color as the rest of her, she placed the jar of salve on Pomfrey’s desk and headed over to Severus’ bed, slowly crawling across so as not to jostle anything, and settled on her knees just behind his right shoulder. He glanced back at her, but otherwise ignored her presence. She knew he felt like he’d already failed in his promise to never hurt her, but she knew he’d been out of sorts; he’d bruised her before he made the promise, anyway.

Ceri rested her chin on his shoulder in a silent, “I forgive you,” and heard him exhale slowly, like he’d been holding his breath. Madame Pomfrey took a moment to glare, and they each raised an eyebrow at her without even realizing they’d reacted the same, since they couldn’t see each other’s faces with the way they were sitting. The older witch then shook her head and returned to healing her colleague’s hand.

Draco’s remarks flooded back to her. She sneered at the memory and muttered, “I need to tell you something.”

“So tell me,” he responded just as quietly.

She glanced at Pomfrey, whom she was sure could hear them despite their quiet tones. “Later.”

“Fine.”

They waited patiently for his hand to be healed, both practically jumping from the bed once it was. Severus thanked Madame Pomfrey on behalf of both of them and placed his newly repaired hand on the small of her back; Ceridwen couldn’t decide if he was being possessive or protective in the gesture. He steered her into an alcove, out of sight and hearing range of any passersby, but positioned his body so that no one would see her should their hiding place be discovered.

“Well?” he asked.

“It’s about Draco…”

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What did my fool of a godson say to you?”

“Basically that he heard me last night after you let me go the first time. And he saw the bruises.” Her cheeks colored as she told him the rest. “He, um, mentioned something about you and me shagging, and exhibitionism, and then told me to find him if I ever…‘want a real shag.’” She air-quoted the last.

His teeth clicked together in his mouth as the muscle in his jaw jumped. “Anything else?” he inquired in a deadly tone.

“No…Oh, no you don’t!” She grabbed for his robes as he turned to storm off, presumably to find Draco, and held on for dear life. Thanking the gods when he whirled back around to face her, she moved to block his exit. “I have never seen you angrier, and I will never be able to live with myself if I let you go after your Head-Boy godson in this state.”

“You’re protecting the man that blatantly disrespected you, me, _and_ our engagement in a two-minute conversation?” he asked incredulously.

She gave him a dry look and crossed her arms. “No, you Dungeon Bat. I’m just trying to keep you from living up to the various titles the student body has given you.”

“You know I could get past you in less than a second, don’t you?”

“I also know you wouldn’t run the risk of hurting me, promise or no promise. There’s barely enough room in here for the two of us and the walls are made of stone, so it wouldn’t be difficult for me to be injured.”

“You never play fair, do you? Let me out,” he demanded.

“No to both. Neither of us is leaving until you’re calm.”

“I am perfectly composed, Sheridan,” he ground out.

She snorted, grinning triumphantly. “Why are your hands shaking, then?”

He stayed silent, knowing he’d lost and failing to understand how she won so many arguments.

“That’s what I thought. Please, would you just relax a bit? Sit down, put your head back, close your eyes—” she started.

“You, of all people, should know I pace to relax,” he interrupted.

She rolled her eyes. “Then walk in teeny-tiny circles, for all I care.”

He decided against that, instead choosing to sit on the window seat and bounce his leg. Every few minutes, he’d get up to walk across the small space and then resume his seat to bounce his leg some more, stealing quick glances at her.

When he got up to do it an eighth time, Ceridwen snapped, “Severus, for the love of Circe! Can you not sit still?”

“No, I cannot, thanks to you! If you’d just bloody move, I could move around more, but you’ve been standing there for more than twenty minutes!” he snarled, visibly trying not to shout.

“You shouldn’t have chosen such a small place, then!”

He didn’t check his own volume this time. “Oh, it’s my fault now, is it? You could have warned me about what you wanted to tell me!”

She was just as loud. “You should learn to control your temper!”

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last twenty minutes, knitting?”

“You’ve probably been plotting punishments for Draco!”

“I wasn’t, actually, but why shouldn’t I?”

“Because the point was to _relax_!”

He pulled her to him by her arm and spun them around to pin her to the wall again, but by her hips instead of her wrists. Ceri was beginning to think he had a thing for it. “How can I relax,” he said slowly, “when you are in skin-tight clothes and standing in the sunlight, so that all I can see is your silhouette? Enlighten me, I implore you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you trying to imply, Severus?”

“Surely you cannot be so naïve a creature? I told you I dream about you. Can’t you put the pieces together?”

“How often?”

“About once a week.”

“When did the dreams start?”

“We’re a bit off topic, Sheridan.”

“ _When did they start_?”

He softened, something he only seemed to do for her. “The night you fell apart in my arms.”

“And now you can’t relax around me?”

He nodded, but his eyes narrowed again when she smirked.

“I think you have a crush, Professor. Especially considering last night…” Her fingers trailed from the backs of his hands to his shoulders slowly, teasing, and though her touch was feather-light and he had a white linen shirt on underneath his frock coat, he could still feel it like fire burning his skin. She beamed, enjoying his discomfort at the pleasantness of the sensation.

“Last night was nothing. I was sleep deprived and delusional. It’s a wonder no one died in any of my classes with the state I was in.”

“Don’t try to hide from me now. That’s just not fair.” She twirled a lock of his hair around her finger, glad to find he’d washed it.

“I don’t think I could if I tried. You have a remarkable ability to see through me.”

“Not often. I’m good at tricking information out of you.”

“Says the student to a master spy.”

“What can I say? I’m gifted.”

He considered her, his gaze roaming over her features, memorizing every aspect of her face. “You are at that, Ceridwen,” he whispered.

“What’s going through your head? You seem to be thinking rather hard about something.”

“When you’re going to push me away…” One of hands slid up to her waist.

She frowned. “Why? Haven’t we already established that I don’t mind being sandwiched between you and a wall?”

“And why is that?”

She blushed, something she’d done more of in the past twelve hours than she had in a month. “I told you, I’m used to you after I…well, you know.”

“Yes, I know. Just how used to me are you?”

He was purring his words again. Why was he purring his words again? “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Severus’ brow furrowed and the purr disappeared. “Yes. Why do you keep answering my questions with questions?”

“Why do you keep letting me?”

“Just answer me, will you?”

“Which question? I’m not being facetious this time, I swear.”

“Just how used to me are you?” he repeated.

“Ah, that one…” Heat crept into her cheeks again.

“It’s just a simple question.”

She groaned inwardly. The purr was back. “Does telling you I can’t think straight when you talk like that count as an answer?”

He smirked. “I suppose.”

“Can I ask you something?”

His other hand skimmed up to her waist. “That’s what you’ve been doing practically all morning. Well, all _your_ morning.”

“Why did you…how should I put it…warm up to me so quickly? When we were first engaged, it was like I was a burden to you, and now you tell me I distract you. I don’t understand, is all.”

He thought about what and how much to tell her, tucking a lock of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear. “Your…innocence…seems to bring out my protective side. I feel possessive every time someone makes the smallest joke or says the worst things,” he murmured. “I realized you were a woman the night of the engagement party, but it wasn’t until you were disowned that you changed in my eyes. You can be so sensitive and take everything to heart one day, and then as confidant as your Weasley twins the next. And whenever you touch me…” He dipped his head to brush his lips across the skin of her neck. “…or whenever you make those ridiculous demands of me you’re so fond of, you prove that you’re exactly what I need. I’ll probably never be able to love you, and for that I beg your forgiveness, but I think I could come quite close.”

She pulled his face up so she could look at him, and because he was turning her brain to mush with the way his lips were brushing against her neck when he talked. “Would you be able to love the children, Severus?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, “that, I’m sure I could do.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“I forgot to mention that I can’t bloody breathe when you grin at me like that.”

“Then this might stop your heart…” She leaned forward a mere inch and suddenly fire exploded across her body, starting at her mouth and spreading to her toes. He was too shocked to respond at first, but soon he was kissing her passionately and reverently at the same time, afraid to break her yet determined to have her. His arms snaked around her until she was pressed to his chest, unable to tell where she ended and he began.

They didn’t come up for air for a long time, too lost in each other to bother. When they finally did, both were breathing heavily and Ceridwen’s braid had come undone so much that her hair flowed down her back in semi-perfect waves.

“Well?” she breathed.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “You were right.”


	8. Shopping, Arguing, & a Prank

Severus Snape was going mad.

That’s what it felt like, anyway.

He didn’t know what it was about his fiancée—the word still sounded foreign to him—but she brought out things about him he hadn’t known he still possessed, characteristics from his school years and before. He felt like a sodding teenager again whenever she was in the same room. And yesterday in that alcove…it’d felt like his legs were about to fail him and send him tumbling to the floor. She, of course, would be worried beyond thought and fuss over him, which he couldn’t find it in himself to mind much.

Draco crashed into him, cutting off his train of thought; if he’d been paying attention to where he was going, he would have been able to avoid the little prat. Expression turning stony, he grabbed the back of his godson’s collar to drag him into the closest empty classroom and slammed the door so loud their ears nearly popped.

“You’ve got some nerve, boy, talking to Sheridan like that,” he snarled.

“So she tattled on me, did she? Whatever, she’s probably no good in bed anyway.” He grumbled the last, though Snape still heard him, of course, and spoke the next at normal volume. “How disappointing was she last night, Snape?”

Severus raised his hand as if to give Draco a swift, back-handed slap, but held it still and clenched his fist as the muscle in his jaw jumped. Slowly lowering his hand, he growled, “I will not check myself a second time. I may not be allowed to strike you as your professor or Head of House, but I certainly can as your godfather. Lucius would not be cross with me when he found out my reasons.” Draco paled, eyes going wide as if he hadn’t known this information before. “Now, I expect you to act like the Head Boy you don’t deserve to be right now. One step out of line, and I will go straight to the headmistress and convince her to give your position to a more worthy Prefect.”

“Yes, sir.” Draco hung his head, sounding truly sorry, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Severus sighed, letting his shoulders slump and his tone soften in defeat. A sad Draco had always been his downfall before Ceridwen was suddenly taking up half his life. “You know I see you almost as a son.”

“And you’re looking out for me in the best way you know how,” the blonde finished for him. “I know. Do you want me to apologize to her?”

“Yes, but not today. She’s apparently gone dress shopping, and I don’t want her be upset; she was bloody _ecstatic_ before she left this morning.” Severus rolled his eyes, at a loss as to why shopping for a dress she’d only wear once could be so meaningful to her.

“I understand. Guess I’ll see you later, then.”

Severus nodded and watched the boy exit the classroom. He stood there for a few moments, alone in the dark like he had been for twenty long years, and found that he no longer enjoyed it as he originally did, nor was he simply content with it as he had been after he’d joined the Order.

He hated it.

“Gods. What’s she doing to me?” he groaned, raking a hand down his face. 

* * *

 

“I’m serious, Ginny!” Ceridwen whined as she twisted around on the little dais, examining every inch of the dress; they’d already been in the store for three hours. It was the most beautiful one she’d tried on, pure white like the rest, and hugged her curves all over. She hadn’t bothered checking the price—Severus had practically bullied her into letting him pay for nearly everything in the wedding even though she had her fair share of money from her mother’s will—so she didn’t chicken out of buying it in case she liked it. “There’s something off about it, about all of them.” She gestured to the other dresses hanging inside the large fitting room.

“Sorry,” Ginny giggled.

Hermione rolled her eyes, grinning slightly. “Did you come up with a specific style you want yet?”

Ceri’s shoulders slumped, glancing guiltily at their consultant. “No.”

“What are your wedding colors, dear?” Lina, the consultant, asked patiently. “I could probably pull better dresses for you if I knew.”

“Red and silver, but so far the only places red will show up are flowers and ribbons and such,” she started, then figured she might as well explain everything she’d worked out so far. “It’s not going to be a large affair; Ginny and Hermione are my only bridesmaids. Missus Weasley tricked me into agreeing to have the ceremony at the Burrow, which my Slytherin fiancé was not happy about, so there’s not much room for a whole lot of color anyway. Ginny, here, is my Maid of Honor—”

“Ceri,” Hermione interrupted, “Take a deep breath. You’re rambling.”

She blushed. “Oops.”

Lina smiled warmly and asked, “I’ve got just the thing. Your Slytherin will be blown away despite the color. Go take that one off, I’ll be back shortly.” She disappeared between racks upon racks of dresses as Ceri disappeared into her fitting room. Not a second after she’d slipped the dress down her body and to the floor, Ginny and Hermione made sounds of intense approval and Lina knocked to announce her presence before coming in.

The dress she was holding up for Ceri’s appraisal was made of wine-colored, crepe back satin with the matte side facing outward. The sleeves and skirt over layers were of the same dark shade of red, but they were chiffon rather than satin. The detailing consisted of embroidered leaves and beading with crystals in a warm silver shade, and with some deep red beads on the skirt and strings of the them over the upper arms. Its train, when Lina took it out of its plastic gown bag, looked to be about two feet long and supported by netted layers.

Ceri fingered the material, letting it slide between her fingers. “This is stunning, Lina.”

“I take it you’re not opposed to a non-white gown, then?” the older woman teased gently, smiling slightly.

“Not a bit.”

It took her a bit longer to get into that dress than it did for the others, since it had to go on over her head instead of Ceri just stepping into it. She had a huge smile on her face as she followed Lina out to stand on the little dais again and twirled for her friends, who all but squealed in delight.

“You look amazing!” Hermione shrieked.

“Malfoy will have to hold Snape up,” Ginny joked.

Lina acted as though Ginny hadn’t just let it slip who Ceri was marrying in two months, just went about messing with Ceri’s hair and starting a conversation on how it would look best with the gown while the bridesmaids set of on dress hunts of their own. By the time they returned, Ceridwen had long since changed into her robes and sat on the small sofa to await their reappearance. Lina left with her gown to make the alterations needed, giving it back in only a few minutes and leaving again.

Each had two dresses in tow when they returned, two styles in their respective sizes. The first they showed was a long, silver satin number with side runching. It fit Ginny perfectly, but Hermione couldn’t quite pull off the shiny look, so they went to change into the second dress. It was a crinkle chiffon high-low halter dress, with something thin and slightly sparkly just under the bodice.

“Perfect!” Ceri grinned wide, happy to be almost finished with the day of shopping.

“You’re the same size as me, right?” Hermione suddenly asked.

“Yeah…why…?” she replied.

“Would you mind trying on that first one? I rather like it, and silver-clad bridesmaids wouldn’t be out of place in the colors for my own wedding.”

“Not at all!” She retrieved the dress from Hermione’s fitting room and entered her own, easily slipping into the gown.

When she came out, Ginny said, “That color looks amazing with your hair.”

“Thank you. What do you think, ‘Mione?”

“It’s brilliant!”

“Cool, then let’s buy these and head to the jewelry store for accessories and such.” As she gathered her wedding gown and bridesmaid dress in her arms, something occurred to her and she couldn’t help laughing a bit, causing her friends to throw her questioning looks. “Severus might have a stroke when he sees the cost of our little shopping spree. Neither of these garments are cheap by any means, and the jewelry is bound to be expensive as hell.”

Hermione rolled her eyes for the second time that day. “Only you would find that humorous, Ceri.”

Ginny just shook her head at her amber-eyed friend. “Sometimes I wonder about you, you know.” 

* * *

 

The trio returned to the school an hour before dinner; Ginny and Hermione headed up to the Prefects dorm, and Ceri made her way to the dungeons, hoping Severus wasn’t there even though the dress was well-covered to prevent anyone from seeing it.

As per her usual luck, however, he was.

“Welcome back,” he greeted awkwardly. He sipped his tea from where he stood in the middle of the sitting room; she guessed he’d been walking to the sofa when she came in.

“Hello.” They’d barely talked after that kiss. Ceridwen had joined Ginny during her visit to the Burrow Saturday afternoon, where her mother decided she wanted Ceri’s wedding to be. She’d denied at first, knowing Severus wasn’t the biggest fan of the Weasley family, but the matriarch had tricked a yes out of her, and Severus had been none too happy the next morning when Ceri broke the news to him before leaving with Ginny and Hermione.

“Were you able to find everything?”

“Uh, yes.”

“And you assigned the expenses to my account?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“You won’t be saying that when you see the bill,” she mumbled.

His eyes narrowed. “What?” he snapped.

“Um, nothing. I’ll just, uh, go put these away…” She started for her room, which he’d promised to magically create while she was out, after finding the only unfamiliar door. It seemed to be the same size as his, with a queen bed, a dresser, a bookshelf, a desk, and a nightstand. Next to the bed was a closet; she was impressed to find that Severus had thought to make it a walk-in when she opened it to deposit the gowns.

She emerged into the sitting room, once her things were put away, to find Severus reading on the sofa with his tea close to his lips so he could take a drink every few seconds. He glanced up as she got closer, but returned his eyes to his book when she met his gaze. Lifting a novel from its shelf, she wondered what could be going through his head as he pretended to read and hoped it wasn’t anything bad.

He couldn’t think of anything other than how close she was, and how much he wanted to go search through her closet to see the dress she’d picked out. He was still irked that he’d be getting married at the Weasley home, but that fact was easily forgotten when his fiancée was just across the room, with her legs crossed in her armchair and one of his books in her lap.

Just when he could bear the silence no longer, she announced it was time to go to dinner. He set his book and cup on the coffee table and rushed from his chambers, eager to get away from her and the odd feelings that coursed through him when she was near.

 _She’s seventeen, she’s seventeen, she’s seventeen,_ he told himself. _She’s twenty-one years your junior. You have no business acting like a smitten teenager. Or smitten at all, for that matter!_

He held back a groan when she managed to catch up to him.

“Sir, about yesterday—”

He turned on her, forcing her to stop so she didn’t run into him. “What about it? Choose your words carefully,” he warned. There was bound to be at least one other person around trying to eavesdrop on them.

She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry if it’s made you feel…odd. I didn’t mean to put you in any sort of awkward position—”

“Hush! You have no tact when you’re not arguing, do you?”

“I just don’t know how to say what I’m thinking, sir.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why?”

“Because I do not feel awkward, Sheridan. Quite the opposite, really.” He leaned in closer so only she could hear his next words. “I am hyperaware of everything you do, and I do not relish being called ‘sir’ when my brain is so painfully aware of the student I’m engaged to.” He turned on his heel and left her standing, dumbstruck, in the hallway.

“Do you expect me to call you by your first name in class, then?”

“You know the answer to that,” he called without looking back.

All through dinner, his eyes never left her unless he was forced into conversation with one of the other professors. He could feel her watching him when he wasn’t watching her, burning a hole into his robes. He left the Head Table as soon as he finished his meal, hoping to retire to his bedroom for the rest of the evening until he had rounds, and avoided passing Ceridwen on his way out.

He groaned when he caught sight of someone leaning against his door. “What are you doing here, Lucius?”

His old friend grinned. “You haven’t gotten fitted for your wedding robes, have you?”

“No, and I am not doing it tonight. Move.”

Lucius stepped aside to allow Severus to open the door and followed him inside. “Tomorrow, then, after your last class.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have chosen you as the best man. Poor Miss Weasley,” he said sarcastically.

“It’s not as if you have many more friends to choose from, Severus. We’re social pariahs, you and I.”

“Yes, but the difference lies in the fact that I choose to be, and you just _are_.”

Someone pounded on the door. “What could I have possibly done to annoy you so much that you’ve locked me out?” Ceridwen’s voice called through the wood.

Severus temporarily lifted the wards to allow her entrance and felt them set again a few moments later, after she’d shut the door. “I apologize. I was a bit distracted by _him_.” He pointed to Lucius.

“Oh,” she muttered when she finally noticed the other man. “How are you, Mister Malfoy?”

“You may call me Lucius, dear, seeing as how you’ll be married to my best friend in two months.” He smirked at Severus, about to embarrass them both further and loving it. “And since you’ve shagged him already.”

“She did not!” Severus snapped, irritation plain on his face. “Your son needs to learn some manners, by the way. I nearly hit him earlier.”

Ceridwen’s eyebrows shot to her hairline, both because he defended her so quickly and because he’d nearly struck his godson.

“What for?” The lack of concern in Lucius’ tone was appalling to her.

“He propositioned my fiancée, first of all—”

Ceri’s head fell into her hands as she interrupted. “ _Must_ you tell him?”

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “—and then further disrespected both of us when I spoke to him about it later.”

“Hmm. Has he apologized to her, at least?”

“He’s promised to.”

Lucius turned to Ceridwen. “Are you stilled angry with him?”

“Yes, but I’m willing to forgive him when he apologizes.”

“Problem solved, then,” the father said cheerily with a slight grin.

Severus dropped his head in his hand, but before he could respond, a patronus in the shape of a wolf drifted through his door, stopped halfway between him and Ceridwen, said, “Order meeting. Now,” in Lupin’s voice and left to inform the rest of the members.

“I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” Malfoy announced. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Severus. Goodnight, Sheridan.”

The strange couple muttered their goodbyes and watched as he gently closed the door on his way out before they even looked at each other.

“Get your cloak,” Severus told her quietly. “We’ve got to walk to leave the wards before we can disapparate.”

Ceridwen retrieved her cloak from her room, as well as a pair of gloves. Upon returning to the sitting room, she found Severus pulling on gloves of his own, cloak already on. He glanced up at her as she stopped beside him, but said nothing as they left his chambers and started down the corridor. On their way out of the castle, they passed most of the other Order members who lived there, but ignored them other than polite nods of hello or brief exchanges between good friends. They were all discreetly leaving the castle, while Snape and Ceridwen knew they could walk out the front door and no one would think it odd.

Sheridan shivered the moment she stepped out the doors and tucked herself into Severus’ side on reflex, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. He stiffened for half a second; she tensed in response and pulled away, but he took her hand and kissed the back of it before pulling her close his side again.

She gave him a small, satisfied smile. “You’re awfully warm for someone who lives in the dungeons.”

“You’re hands are like ice. Of course I’m warm.” He smirked.

She nudged him with her elbow and they continued without speaking, each lost in their thoughts, until they reached the edge of the wards. Severus apparated them to the front hall of Grimmauld Place. Molly found them almost immediately and ushered them into the kitchen, where Fred handed them both a cup of hot tea before rejoining his brothers.

All of the Weasleys had arrived already, as well as Minerva, Tonks, and Lupin, and were seated around the table with their own drinks, talking in low voices. Arthur and Molly drew Severus into a conversation that didn’t concern Ceri much so she drifted across the room to greet the twins and Bill. As the last of the Order trickled in, Remus and Arthur moved to the head of the table. Remus cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention just as Severus brushed a hand across the small of Ceridwen’s back to let her know he was there. She jumped, but relaxed when she saw it who he was and leaned into him for a moment.

“Thank you all for answering my patronus so quickly. I’ve heard a few of you speculating about why, and have come to the conclusion that you’re all paranoid.” The Order chuckled. “I’m sure you all remember the attack on the Death Eaters that we canceled so long ago?” When he heard varying responses of “yes,” he continued. “I’ve been speaking with Arthur about it this past week, and we think they’ve begun to underestimate our willingness to go after them—which makes this the perfect time to do just that.”

“Mind you,” Arthur added, “we’re not allowing students to go, whether you’re of age or not.”

Said students groaned in complaint, but knew better than to argue.

“Why call us here, then?” Hermione questioned.

“Some of us are bound to be injured, Hermione. We’ll need assistance when we return, and, gods forbid, some of us may even need help returning in the first place,” Arthur explained.

“When is this even happening?” Ginny cut in, eyes wide with worry. She glanced at each of her brothers in turn, aside from Ron, and it was clear that Arthur hadn’t told her what he and Remus were planning.

“This Saturday,” Remus answered.

“Who do you plan on bringing?” Ceridwen asked.

“The non-student members of the Order and Dumbledore’s Army,” Severus replied.

Ceridwen hand tightened on her cup of tea, turning the knuckles white. “I suppose that includes you?”

“Yes.”

She set her drink on the table and left the kitchen without so much as a glance in his general direction.

Severus clenched his jaw.

“You didn’t tell her?” Remus inquired in a reproachful tone.

Snape glared. “I was ordered not to tell anyone by _you_ , Lupin.”

“Well of course your bloody fiancée is an exception to that!”

Tonks settled Teddy on her hip to clap her husband on the arm. “You should have known to tell him that, you dunce!”

The werewolf looked at his wife in confusion for a moment before he grimaced, realizing her point. “Right…”

Severus rolled his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to resolve this issue so she isn’t cross with me should I be in need of her assistance later.”

“You’ve got a whole week, mate. Just let her cool off for a bit and talk to her then,” Sirius suggested.

Severus sneered at the Animagus. “She’ll only be furious with me for the rest of the week if I don’t. Or depressed. I’d rather her get her anger out of the way now and have the issue resolved than let her think I was hiding this from her because I wanted to.”

Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “You’ve certainly gotten to know her very well already.”

“Really, Black,” he said as he crossed to the door, “for the amount of women you’ve been with, I would have thought you’d know how to handle them when they’re upset.” He smirked, exiting the room as sniggers started up.

Quietly, he entered the sitting room to find Ceridwen on the floor in front of the lit fireplace. The light from the flames reflected off of everything else in the otherwise dark room to give her black hair a slightly red glow. She’d pulled her legs up to her chest and crossed her arms on top of her knees to rest her chin on them. She either didn’t know he was there or was choosing not to acknowledge him.

His brow furrowed. She didn’t look angry; she seemed…dejected, almost. “I’m sorry,” Severus murmured, slowly moving farther into the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked in a small voice.

“Lupin told me to keep it to myself. I hadn’t realized you were an exception.”

“How did I not know you were speaking with him?”

“He only sent his owl when you were in class. I did the same when I had time and when you were on rounds.”

“Okay.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, Severus, that’s all.”

There was something off about her that he found familiar, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He’d expected her to start arguing with him right away, to be more upset with the fact that he hadn’t told her what he had agreed to participate in without her knowledge.

And then it hit him.

It was very possible that he could be fatally injured during the attack and leave her without anyone to marry; then she would be assigned a husband by the Ministry. That way, she might end up with a Death Eater who would treat her like a piece of property and nothing more.

“You need not worry that I will die and allow the Ministry to assign you a husband.”

She was off the ground before he’d even registered that she’d moved, and despite the dim lighting, he could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. “You think I’m worried about what will happen to _me_ , at the end of this? We haven’t been engaged long, but you’ve had plenty of time to get to know me far better than that!” The red glow to her hair became more pronounced, somehow, as she went on. “I was not crying because I might have to face the reality of marrying a Death Eater at the end of the week, Severus! I know you’ll come back alive.”

Her fresh rage was rubbing off on him, if only because she was yelling in his face. “What, pray tell, were you crying for, then?”

“As if it’s so difficult to see! You’re a sodding Legilimens—figure it out!”

“I don’t think you want me to do that, Sheridan. Just tell me.”

“You should bloody know,” she muttered, crossing her arms; the fire seemed to glow more, causing her hair to seem even redder.

He threw up his hands, thoroughly annoyed, and looked to the ceiling for a moment. “Well, I don’t!” She opened her mouth to speak when he looked back at her, but he cut her off. “What on Earth is the matter with your hair?” he exclaimed.

“What’s the matter with _yours_?”

He pulled a lock of his hair in front of his eyes, scowling, as she examined hers at the same time. What he found was not raven black—it was the same bright crimson as hers.

“Weasley!” They both cried.

In the kitchen, where the others had stopped talking to listen to the argument, Fred and George nearly fell out of their chairs laughing.

“What did you do?” Molly demanded.

“We put a powder in their tea—” Fred began.

“—that turns their hair red—” George continued.

“—when they get angry.” Fred finished.

“How long does it last?”

“Only works for one bout of rage,” George said.

“Nice, one, boys,” Sirius praised, a wide grin on his face. The twins stood and bowed.

“Fred! George! I’m going to hex you out of your minds!” Ceridwen called from the hallway.

They knew her wand wouldn’t allow her to do much harm, but her fiancée and fellow victim was Severus Snape, so they disapparated to the apartment above their shop and hoped the couple didn’t find a way to follow them.


	9. Golden Flares, Crimson Tears

Ceridwen pounded the door to the kitchen open, intending to hunt down the twins, but halted mid-step when she saw everyone’s eyes on her. They visibly held back laughter, which only increased her irritation. She clenched her teeth and turned around to keep Severus from entering the room just as someone called out that Fred and George had disapparated.

“Nope,” she muttered, pushing against his chest with both hands. “Not in there.”

He threw his hands up. “Where are they, then?”

“Probably at their flat, since we can’t apparate there.”

“Stop pushing me.”

“Well stop pushing back!”

“I’m not even bloody moving!”

“Fine!” She removed her hands from his chest, and he fell forward a little. She smirked and crossed her arms. “Weren’t pushing back, were you?”

His eyes narrowed into slits.

Sirius said something rather loud in the kitchen. Molly shouted, “Sirius Black!” in reproach, as well as quite a few other things that Severus and Ceridwen couldn’t hear.

They stood in silence, just glaring at each other. Severus’ black eyes burned into Ceri’s amber ones. She was the first to look away as their crimson hair darkened slightly.

Severus sighed. “You still want me to figure out why you’re upset, don’t you?”

She blinked rapidly and bit her lip before responding, still not looking at him. “I…No, not exactly. I was just under the impression that you thought better of me than you do, that I would be more worried about the _reason_ I would be assigned a new husband more than _actually_ being assigned one.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand…”

“Gods, you men are thick!”

His only reply was a confused expression as the red faded almost completely from their hair.

“I’ve said I know you’ll come back alive.”

“You have,” he agreed.

“I know you’re a great wizard, one of the greatest in the world.”

The line between his eyes deepened; he couldn’t see where she was going with this.

“But it seems that this knowledge cannot stop me from worrying about you.”

He deflated, cursing himself for his idiocy. “Sheridan. I _do_ think better of you than that. I just didn’t think you’d give a damn about _me_.”

“Is it really so hard to believe?” She moved closer to him to avoid others overhearing, then remembered she was a witch. “ _Muffliato_. Did you not see my face when only your hand was injured? Is it so hard for you to believe that I care, that even though I was forced into this, I _might_ just give a damn whether you live or die?” Her molten gaze was pleading with him, begging him to believe her. She gave a small smile. “I would not have patience with you if I didn’t think you were worth it.”

He searched her face for any sign of dishonesty, but found none. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and finally just settled on staring at her with a dumbstruck expression before he found his voice at last, though all he could say was, “The student is lecturing the teacher. I should be fired.”

She sighed, dropping her head in her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Gods, Severus. You couldn’t have ruined that more thoroughly than you just did.”

He smirked. “I’m rubbing off on you.”

Ceri lifted her head, confused for a moment, then realized what he meant. “I suppose you are.”

The smirk left his face; he hooked a finger under her chin to make her look at him. “I would have told you about this Saturday if I was aware that I could. Lupin never said you were allowed to know. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. Where exactly will this attack be, though?”

“That, I do not know.”

“Let’s go ask, then.”

She dropped the _Muffliato_ and took his hand in hers to lead him back to the kitchen. He reached around her to push the door open, which put them rather close together, so when they entered the room, the hand that was holding hers had shifted to her hip and they couldn’t be much closer—her shoulders were brushing his chest with each step.

Everyone’s eyebrows shot to their hairlines.

“Piss off,” was all Ceridwen said.

Severus tried and failed to hold back a smile.

Mouths fell open.

“Remus,” Ceri said, “where will this attack take place?” She took one of the chairs the twins had vacated, pulling Severus’ hand into her lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The werewolf shook himself, prompting the others to do so as well. He cleared his throat, seeming suddenly shy. “Yes, about that…”

“You might as well just say it,” Arthur encouraged quietly.

“The Riddle house,” Remus said in a rush.

Her eyes widened and her hand tightened almost painfully on Severus’. She was frozen in her seat, gaze locked on Lupin. “Great Circe,” she breathed. “ _Why_?”

Since the end of the war, the Riddle house was seen as haunted, in a way. Most witches and wizards believed it to be cursed because of Voldemort’s time spent there before his return during the Triwizard Tournament. No one wanted anything to do with it, save the Death Eaters, and they were only there because they knew the Order didn’t want to go anywhere near the place.

“When Charlie and Percy arrive, there will fifteen of us to fight—”

Harry interrupted him. “There would be more than twenty if you let the rest of us fight as well. We’ve all seen war, Remus. We can handle it.”

“Harry’s right,” Hermione agreed. “It doesn’t make any sense to keep us back.”

“Alright,” Arthur began, “I’m just going to explain the entire plan. Molly, you know it already; could you fetch the twins, please? We can fill them in on what they missed later.”

“Of course.” She disapparated.

“As I was saying. Molly will be the only one of us not at the Riddle house, but I’ll get back to her role later. The rest of us will create a ring around the house, with each healer between both of his or her charges. When we begin the attack, the healers—which will be the students—will stay right where they are until they are needed.” Molly apparated in with Fred and George right then. “It’s likely that most or all of us invading the house will be injured at some point. When that happens, we’ll need them to heal us as quickly as possible, or apparate us here. Molly will be waiting to take over healing duties so you can get back to the house.”

“Do we get no say in this?” Ron asked.

“If it involves the students fighting, then no,” Remus answered. “And to avoid confusion, you healers will all be assigned someone to look out for. And no arguing about it, either.”

“What if one of you is injured and can’t get out of the house?” Hermione challenged. “How do we help you then?”

“Hermione, dear, if we’re too injured to leave the house, we probably never will,” Arthur said gently.

“No,” Ceridwen said defiantly. “If whoever I’m assigned to is trapped in that house, I’m going in whether you like it or not.”

“How will we even know they’re trapped in the first place?” Harry asked before Ceri could be rebuked.

The group debated this for a few minutes, until George spoke up. “We can send flares out the nearest window.”

“And if you lose your wand?” The-Boy-Who-Lived argued.

“We can make little firework-type things,” Fred claimed. “Every healer can have their own color, and whoever they’re supposed to watch over can have a mini firework with them that will fly out the nearest window and explode into the color of their healer.”

“Slow down,” Remus cried, “no one ever said we are allowing the students to enter the house under any circumstances.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, Remus,” Ceridwen said in a dangerous voice, “but I very clearly stated that I don’t give a damn what you said. I will go into that house to protect my charge. I’m sure the others will agree.” She looked to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who nodded their agreement.

“Who have they all been assigned to, Remus?” Severus asked.

Remus threw him a grateful look and picked up a piece of parchment Ceri hadn’t noticed before. “Right, yes. Now, before I start, I’ve got Cho as a healer and Angelina and Esmeralda as fighters, but I don’t know any of them very well. Would they be willing to participate?”

Sirius, Fred, and George all gave him variations of “yes.”

“Good, then you’ll have to fill them in as soon as possible, as well as Neville and Luna. Harry, you have Kingsley and McGonagall. Ginny, you have Charlie and Percy. Ron, you have George and Arthur. Hermione, you have Bill and Fleur. And Ceridwen, you have Severus and Sirius.”

“Why doesn’t Harry have Sirius?” Bill asked, confused.

“Because Harry is the best of them with defense magic, and Kingsley and Minerva are rather important people. From what I’ve seen, Sirius is as much family to Ceridwen as he is to Harry.”

“He’s right,” Ceri agreed. “He’s got the mind of a ten-year-old, but he’s family.”

“I am sitting _right_ here, you know,” Sirius complained.

“Am I wrong?”

“Well, no…”

“Alright, alright. Stop picking fights, you lot, we’re all nervous. Whoever is telling the others who they’ll be healing, listen up: Cho has Fred and Angelina, Neville has Tonks and me, and Luna has Esmeralda.”

Hermione volunteered to inform Neville and Luna, Fred would tell Cho, and Sirius and George would let their fiancées know. The twins took down all the healers’ color choices; Severus immediately said “gold” when they asked for Ceri’s, making her blush. Everyone memorized who they would be responsible for or who would be looking out for them, and Molly served them all a hot cup of açaí and blueberry tea with honey.

The mood in 12 Grimmauld Place declined rapidly as the Order separated into groups and pairs and moved throughout the house until they had to return home or go back to school. Conversation quickly turned to the weekend plans, but no one was strategizing—that had clearly already been taken care of. Instead, they were worrying.

Severus and Ceridwen sat in silence in the sitting room, alone, she leaning back on his chest with his black cloak covering her like a blanket, and he idly stroking her air as they both stared at the low fire that did little to warm the room.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Ceridwen asked, “What are we, Severus?” and sipped her tea.

“What?” he nearly squeaked.

She couldn’t help giggling, but sobered right away. “What are we?” she repeated. “I mean…We fight an make up like we’ve been married for decades, we protect each other, we worry about each other, we take care of each other, and we’re…attracted to each other.” She blushed. “But neither of us would stay in this engagement if we didn’t have to, and everything happened so fast…It’s like we’re only feeling this was because we were forced together.”

“Ceridwen, relax,” he murmured in a gentle voice.

She took a deep breath, letting her tea rest on her stomach and her head fall back so that it was nestled under his chin. “I’m sorry, it’s just…well, look at us now. If someone told us six months ago—no, _three weeks_ ago, that we’d be like this, we both would have hexed them back to the first war.”

Severus took her cup to set it on the end table next to his so he could wrap his arms around her without spilling its contents all over them. “Hush. I will admit that the quick progression of our…relationship…was rather quick, and that I would end it if I could.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off. “However—that would only be for propriety’s sake.”

Her tiny smile warmed him. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not really sure what you want me to say.”

“The truth.”

“Then I don’t know. We’re together, but not. We’re friends, but more.”

“As evidenced yesterday morning.”

He chuckled, nuzzling his face in her hair. “Yes.” 

* * *

 

The week passed too quickly. Ceridwen was anxious whenever Severus wasn’t with her, and when he finally walked through the door after buying his wedding robes the next day, she vaulted off the sofa to throw her arms around his neck in a fierce hug; his answering embrace chased the breath from her lungs—they greeted each other this way every day.

Every night was spent curled up on the sofa or one of their beds, reading to each other or from their own books, taking about anything but Saturday, or just being together. Their sudden need to be near each other frightened them both; what would happen if either of them were injured? This indulgence of their fear would only make such a tragedy worse.

 _The war never ended,_ Severus thought one night as he listened to the slow, steady breathing of his young, sleeping fiancée. _The Dark Lord is gone, but we’re still fighting. We’re still losing people. I won’t be surprised if at least one of us dies on Saturday._ “Just please don’t let it be her. Anyone but her…” He’d come to care for her more than he ever thought he would; she made his heart race and breath hitch. It terrified him.

He eyed the ebony wand she would be using. _To whatever god will hear me…keep her safe._

* * *

 

Saturday at noon saw 12 Grimmauld Place full to bursting; one could scarcely move about the ground floor of the small house. Arthur had apparently gotten his hands on a few portkeys, so they’d be traveling to the Riddle house that way. Severus held Ceridwen close with one arm while his other hand touched their group’s portkey just next to where she was clutching it.

The Riddle house had clearly been magnificent once, but with no one to take care of it for so many years, it had fallen into disrepair. The grounds were overgrown, tiles were missing, windows were broken, boarded up, or empty. Massive trees cast the entire manor in deep shadow, and light streaming from no more than five windows was the only thing that assured the party there were even any Death Eaters present.

“You all know your positions,” Remus whispered. “Get yourselves sorted. We attack in five minutes exactly, whether we’re all in place or not.”

The small army scattered.

“Snape,” Sirius called quietly over Ceri’s head. They still had three minutes left.

The dark man turned his head, keeping his wand ready. “What, Black?”

“Let’s say we call a truce tonight.”

“Why—? Yeah, sure. I would assume that sort of thing would be implied.”

“One would also assume that you knew telling Ceridwen about the plan was okay, but apparently not.”

Ceri sent him a stinging jinx, glad to have bushes to cover up the light and that he didn’t yelp when it him. “ _Behave_ ,” she hissed.

“What’s the countdown say?” the Animagus asked rather than apologize.

She checked the enchanted pocket watch Arthur had given each healer. “Two minutes and thirty seconds.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned.

“Oh, hush! You’re a Gryffindor and your Animagus form—which you’ve had since before you graduated—has teeth and claws.”

He could think of nothing to respond with.

None of them made a sound for the rest of the countdown. When Ceri’s pocket watch vibrated in her hands, she tapped their shoulders twice at the same time. They, along with the other thirteen, charged from the grounds of the Riddle house and burst through its doors and first-floor windows.­

Ceri was internally reduced to a ball of stress and desperation the moment Severus disappeared from her sight. Her mind dragged her through scenarios of his death without her permission, pictures of him lying in a pool of his own blood threatening to knock her off her feet. She went through what felt like thousands of circumstances in which he was trapped and unable to reach his wand or his Flare—the simple name the twins had given their mini-fireworks—and was tortured or killed. She couldn’t decide which was worse.

It went on for hours. Only Neville’s indigo and Luna’s emerald Flares were seen, at least from where Ceri was standing.

She gasped. What if Sirius or Severus had sent out a Flare, but it was on the other side of the house?

There was no time for her to deliberate long on that, because just then, one golden Flare exploded right outside a second-floor window. She sprinted for the door she’d seen them take, but had to slow when she heard another Flare explode so she could see what color it was.

“No!”

She flew up the stairs, hexing and jinxing wounded Death Eaters out of her way. When she reached the top, intuition told her to turn left. What she found was a drawing room with five living people in it: three Death Eaters she didn’t recognize, an unconscious, bleeding Sirius Black, and a wandless Severus Snape backed into a corner—also bleeding, but from where she could not tell. Three other Death Eaters were in a heap on the ground near the fireplace.

On instinct, she wanted to rescue Severus first, but Sirius seemed to be in dire need of Molly. She knelt by his side to check his pulse, thankful that Severus’ position put the Death Eaters’ backs to her, and felt for his pulse. Slow, but steady. She performed a simple healing charm to avoid splinching him when she disapparated, levitated him into a standing position, circled his waist with her arms, and then they both disappeared with a _crack_.

In the kitchen of Sirius’ home, Ceri “scared the daylights” out of Molly. With a speed apology, she gently laid her friend’s godfather on the table and disapparated once more, this time reappearing in the drawing room of the Riddle house. “ _Accio_ Severus Snape’s wand,” she whispered. It flew to her hand. Shaking her head that Severus’ opponents still hadn’t noticed her, she lightly grasped the end of his wand, caught his eye, and threw it to him like she was throwing a knife. She was a bit off her mark, but he got his hand around it nonetheless.

“ _Sectumsempra_!” he cried, downing the wizard closest to him.

“ _Avada Ke—”_

“ _Reducto_!” She reduced the one on his left to dust. Her stomach twisted itself in knots as it was wont to do whenever she took a life. .

The last attempted to flee; Ceri cast _Impedimenta_ to slow him down, allowing Severus to use his favorite curse again.

“How many are left?”

“None on this floor, I think.” He stumbled, steadied himself on an armchair with his free hand, and moved his right up to his ribs with a grimace. It came away bright red. “Damn.”

Ceri rushed to him, shoving her wand into her magically extended pocket. “Let me see.” He straightened as well as he was able to allow her to look. She practically tore his frock coat and white linen shirt open to get to the wound; even though they were torn, the hole wasn’t big enough to thoroughly examine the wound.

Which they both should have realized was something better done in Grimmauld Place, but he was disoriented from blood loss and she was irrational with worry.

A Death Eater stomped into the room with a wicked grin on her face. Severus inhaled sharply, roughly pushed Ceri behind him with the last bit of his strength, and trained his wand on the witch, who reminded him too much of Bellatrix. He hoped she couldn’t tell how much he was relying on the armchair and Ceri to keep him standing.

She crept toward him, taking care to be quiet now, for a reason Severus could not fathom. He felt Ceri reaching for her wand behind him, praying she’d just get a hold of it already when the Death Eater raised her own wand in preparation to end them, still with that disconcerting curl to her mouth. Ceri disapparated them just as the curse left the Death Eater’s lips and cut into them both.

They both collapsed on the floor of the front hall upon reappearing in Sirius’ home, Severus barely holding onto consciousness and Ceri gasping for air.


	10. Breathe

“Molly!” Tonks shouted from the sitting room.

“What is it, dear?” the mother asked from the kitchen. “Have your bandages come undone again?”

“It’s Severus and Ceri! In the hall” Tonks and Esmeralda hurried to the injured couple’s side, and Teddy made whimpering noises as he picked up on his mother’s distress. “Esmeralda, take him.” Sirius’ fiancé lifted the baby into her arms, making soothing noises, and went back to the sitting room with him.

Molly rushed over not a second later. “Merlin’s beard! Quickly, into the kitchen with them!” She and Tonks levitated Severus and Ceri to the kitchen to set them on the table. They left blood drops and a crimson puddle in their wake.

“Sweet Circe,” Sirius gasped; Molly had only just gotten him to open his eyes a few minutes ago. “What happened to them?”

“I don’t know,” Tonks said. “They just apparated to the front hall and…fell. I think Severus has blacked out, and Ceri—” The young witch cried out in pain as Tonks lowered her to the wooden surface. “I think she’s in too much pain to make much noise other than that.”

“It looks like she got hit in the ribs with a curse,” Sirius observed.

Molly paled. “Oh, I hope it didn’t puncture a lung! Tonks, are you well enough to help me?”

“I think so, but, Molly…we’ll need more than just us.”

“Yes, yes…Sirius, send a patronus to Luna, since Esmeralda is here.”

“Send one to Neville, too…Remus should be fine. He’s got Teddy and me to come home to.”

Sirius conjured a blurry patronus, told it to find Neville and Luna, and it loped off to obey him. “What can I do?”

Molly and Tonks had already started working over Severus and Ceridwen. “Bandages,” the Auror answered. “Lots and lots of bandages. And healing potions. And any form of dittany you can find.”

“On it.” He moved as fast as he could, gritting his teeth against the stinging pain in his leg. _It’s nothing compared to what theirs will be_ , he scolded himself.

Five minutes later, he returned with blood-replenishing potions, a box filled with bandages and the best healing potions in the house to find Molly and Tonks with blood spattered on their dress and shirt, respectively, and smeared up to their elbows. Sirius nearly dropped everything when he saw their patients.

Both Severus and Ceri were bare from the waist up, save Ceri’s bra, and their skin was stained red. Severus had two deep gashes, one across the left side of his rib cage and the other just above his right hip, as well as purple bruises and smaller, yet just as deep, cuts decorating his chest and stomach. Ceri only had a few scratches and one major injury, which was an extension of the wound across Severus’ ribs, but it was wider, bleeding just as much as all of his put together, and scarily close to her heart.

“Sweet Circe,” he said again, eyes wide, as his breathing became ragged.

Tonks glanced back at him. “Sirius, I know this is hard for you to look at, but I _really_ need you to be strong for her.”

“Give her the potions, dear,” Molly ordered. “She needs them more than he does right now.”

Padfoot rushed to Tonks’ side, set the box and bottles on the table, and tilted his, Molly’s, and Arthur’s adopted daughter’s head back. They heard the _crack_ of someone apparating into the hall as Tonks held Ceri’s mouth open to allow Sirius to tip the potion down her throat. He massaged her neck just under her chin to make her swallow.

Neville and Luna hurried into the kitchen. “What can we do?” Neville asked. “Merlin’s beard, they look terrible!”

“You help Tonks. Luna, get some of the healing potions next to Sirius and give them to Severus,” Molly ordered.

The two jumped to action immediately.

They worked non-stop for over an hour, by which time most of the others had apparated to the house; most had some sort of injury, but were forced to heal themselves. Bill and Remus held the twins and Arthur back from rushing to Ceri’s side, and offered their help in healing her and Severus. Harry and Ginny, the last of the healers to have left the Riddle house, announced a victory and zero fatalities when they returned with Kingsley, Minerva, Charlie and Percy, but no one felt ready to celebrate quite yet; the fatality count could go from zero to two at any moment.

Near seven o’clock, the exhausted, volunteer doctors stood before the rest of the Order in the drawing room, each with crimson splotches and smears covering their upper bodies. Everyone held their breath.

It was Bill who found the strength to speak. “We’ve done all we can, but the damage from their injuries is massive. They still need a lot of work. Snape would be fine, had he not been hit with a curse much like his _Sectumsempra_. Ceri actually took the worst of it, though; it only grazed Snape, but it hit her almost square in the heart, almost punctured her lung, broke a rib and cracked two more, so she went into shock almost right away. We’ll keep a constant watch over them both.”

“How long do you think it will be before they’ve recovered?” Fred asked.

Bill thought a moment. “They should wake up any minute, and we’ll have them take healing potions every day, so they should be fully recovered by their wedding day, but it’s going to be painful for them both.”

“Will there be any lasting damage?” Arthur questioned.

“Aside from scarring…we’re not sure. Most likely pain or soreness in and around the scars. Whatever that curse was, it had nasty, lasting effects; they bled far longer than they should have. And Snape took a curse that did nearly the same thing before Ceri got him and Sirius out.”

“Can we see them?” George asked.

Bill looked to Molly.

“Not yet; let them rest,” she said gently.

“Please, Mum?” Fred begged.

Molly shook her head. “I’m sorry, dears. Their bodies have been put under too much stress. I’d love to let you sit with them, but they need time to begin the healing process without the potions doing it for them. I’m afraid if they’ve got visitors, it might put them under even more stress.”

Both of the twins’ shoulders slumped and they leaned into their fiancées.

“Is there anything we can do?” Hermione asked, speaking for the whole room.

“No,” Remus answered. “No, now it’s time to wait and hope for the best. We’ve done all we can do for now.” 

* * *

 

In the kitchen, in the minds of the still-sleeping witch and wizard, Fate was being cruel.

Ceri dreamed of a scenario drastically different than the one they were in, images playing across her closed lids of Severus bleeding to death on the wood floor, both of them captured by the Death Eater who’d cursed them and tortured for days, weeks, or even months before they died or the Order found them. She screamed for him, for them to let him go, but no noise ever left her mouth and she couldn’t find her way back to consciousness.

Beside her, Severus was drifting in and out of sleep, trying to escape the mental pictures his fear was creating so that he could make sure Ceri was alright. He moaned quietly, desperate to wake but unable to. It was his attempt to move that finally woke him; sharp pain speared his hip and chest, making him gasp.

He kept his eyes squeezed shut and bit his tongue to keep from crying out, taking deep, slow breaths until the pain subsided. When it no longer felt as though someone had run him through with swords, he let his head fall to the left to see Ceri as their healers had left her: topless but for a white cloth over her breasts and with blood smeared all over her chest, stomach, arms and neck.

For one horrifying moment, he thought she was dead; she was certainly pale enough to be, and the marks on her skin where she’d been cut by spells clearly hadn’t been shallow. What really set his heart racing, though, was the mark that he could just barely see poking out from underneath the cloth. It was an almost-perfect starburst shape from what he could tell, almost directly over her heart.

Severus tried to move a second time, but his injuries again prevented him, so he settled on grasping her hand and squeezing as hard as he could without injuring her more in an attempt to wake her.

“Ceridwen,” he croaked, cringing at the hoarseness of his voice, “wake up.”

She didn’t even twitch.

“Open your eyes, Ceri. Please.”

The kitchen door creaked open. “Don’t waste your breath,” Molly said. “She’ll wake when she wakes. How are you feeling?” Bill, Remus, Arthur and Sirius followed her into the room.

Snape lifted his head from the tabletop. “Is she alright?” he inquired desperately.

“As well as she can be,” Sirius muttered, moving to stand at her head to gently run his fingers through her hair.

“How are you feeling?” Molly asked again.

“I cannot move without sparking pain like swords,” he said through his teeth. Why weren’t they more concerned about Ceri? Why were they just standing around? Why weren’t they _doing_ anything?

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until Bill’s stern but calm voice replied. “We’ve done all we can, Snape. All that’s left is to let her sleep and then give her some potions.”

A draft passed through the kitchen, causing Severus to shiver slightly. As goosebumps rose on his skin, he finally noticed he was without a shirt. “What did that curse do to her?”

Bill repeated what he told the others of her injuries not five minutes ago.

Severus let his head fall back onto the wood. “Merlin’s beard…”

“She should be healed enough for you two to marry in November,” Remus added.

“ _That’s_ what you think I’m worried about?” the potions master snapped. Instant fury let him sit up in a flash as it coursed through him. He gave the werewolf his best glare, satisfied when the other man shrank back a bit. “My fiancée, who I actually care about, believe it or not, nearly died rescuing me. Of all of you, I should have been the one who could get in and out of that house easily! Instead, she was forced to come back for me after getting Black out of there.”

“Oh, Severus, don’t go blaming yourself—” Molly tried.

He cut her off. “Don’t blame myself? Mrs. Weasley, if I hadn’t put myself in a situation where I was severely out-numbered, Black would not have been forced to come to my aid, and therefore my fiancée would not have been forced to put herself at such high risk of death. Do you understand me?”

“Now, Severus,” Sirius interrupted. “She’s only trying to make you feel better.”

Severus had to literally bite his tongue to avoid going off again. “That does not change the fact that Ceridwen’s state is, in fact, my fault.” Pain stabbed his side. “I assume I was to be taking those potions you spoke of as well?”

“Yes, I’ll fetch them now.” Molly bustled out of the room, Arthur on her heels.

Severus squeezed Ceri’s hand and whispered, “You’ll be alright. I promise.”

Three hours later, Severus had Ceri across his lap in a bedroom on the top floor, stroking her hair, waiting for the potions too wake her up. Molly and Arthur had given him his own to take, then somehow managed to get some into Ceri when she didn’t wake up after two more hours. Severus had carried her upstairs, found an empty room, and settled them there so, when she finally opened her eyes, she wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with other people.

He waited, glancing at the clock every now and then. An hour passed. That seemed reasonable; she’d been hit with the curse directly, after all, whereas it had only grazed him. But, when that hour turned into another three, anxiety had found its way into his mind. Ceridwen had been unconscious for six hours now—surely, she should have woken already?

Slowly, he moved her from his lap so she was lying on the bed itself, looking peaceful and tormented at the same time.

“Why are you still asleep?” He whispered, and brushed her hair back from her face. He gave her a soft peck on the forehead before he headed downstairs to find Molly, Tonks, and Bill; hopefully they would have a clue as to what was wrong with her.

It was a painful walk to the bottom floor because he was still sore from the curse, but he didn’t have to go much farther once he was down there—Bill, Fleur, and Remus were speaking quietly just inside the kitchen doorway nearest the stairs.

It was Bill who saw him. The oldest Weasley son jumped up from his seat, followed closely by his companions. “Snape!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Bloody hell, mate, you could’ve just sent a patronus or something!”

“She hasn’t woken up yet,” He said a bit desperately.

Bill read the worry in his eyes. “Molly! Dora!”

Molly scurried into the hall, in that way she has. Tonks rushed from a room on the second floor, stopping halfway down the steps.

“What’s the matter?” they asked at the same time.

“She’s still unconscious,” Bill said.

“What’s wrong with her, Molly?” Severus demanded.

“You stay down here,” the matriarch told him firmly.

“But—”

“Have some tea in the sitting room.”

“I want to—”

“Bill, Dora, come with me. Remus, you and Sirius make sure he doesn’t come up.”

The werewolf nodded. “We will.”

Snape moved out of the way so Bill and Molly could follow Tonks to the top floor. He stared at the ceiling when he could no longer see them, until he heard the door to his and Ceri’s room open and close, and then fell against the wall. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, praying to whatever god would hear him that nothing was terribly wrong.

“You should sit down,” Remus suggested gently.

He took a deep breath. “I will remain here until my fiancée is fixed.”

“At the bottom of the stairs?”

“Yes.”

“For hours, if that’s how long it takes?”

“Yes, Remus.”

The werewolf’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise, but he shook his head rather than say anything further, and stepped back into the kitchen. He took his seat and picked up his tea, facing the former Death Eater to make sure he didn’t change his mind. By two in the morning, Severus had dozed off, still in the same spot, and Sirius had taken over watch duty from Remus, who was sleeping somewhere.

The dark wizard was ripped from sleep by an agony-filled scream. His eyes flew open, searching around him wildly. His heart had jumped into his throat, and he could feel his pulse pounding fast and loud in his ears. No one in the house moved, so Severus convinced himself that it was nothing.

Then he heard it again, like someone had torn the sound straight from the woman’s soul. He’d never heard anything so…heartbreaking.

 _Make it stop! Gods, it_ hurts, _stop touching it!_

Snape’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice. He would know it anywhere. The question was, why was he hearing it _in his head_?

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going?” Sirius called as Severus stood and started up the stairs, suffering the same soreness as he had coming down.

“They’re hurting her,” he answered without looking back.

Sirius left his chair to follow him. “How would you know? You’ve been down here for hours.”

“She was screaming in my head.”

_Please, it burns…_

“Correction. _Is_.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, mate.”

Severus stopped, nearly causing Sirius to run into him. Giving the man his best glare, he growled, “Have you forgotten that the Dark Lord could speak to your godson without opening his mouth, or have you forgotten?”

“I know that, Snape, but that was because Harry was a Horcrux. They were connected when his mother deflected the Killing Curse.”

“There is more than one way for spells to connect two people in such a way, Black. I’m not counting on it, but it’s possible.” With that, the potions master turned on his heel and resumed his half-run to the only room on the top floor, Sirius always close behind him.

When Severus flung the door open, Bill was leaning over the mark on Ceri’s chest with a scowl on his face, no doubt trying to figure out what the curse was. Molly saw Snape straight away, and was beginning to tell him something about leaving immediately when Bill very lightly ran the tip of his finger across the edge of the starburst mark.

Ceri cried out in his head again, begging him to stop touching her, that it burned. Severus flinched, trapped by her mental pleas until Bill stopped and she quieted with a whimper.

“She’s awake,” he croaked, voice shaking.

“What?” they all asked at once.

“She’s awake,” he said more clearly. “Partially. That mark, it burns. Every time you touch it, she’s in agony. The only reason she hasn’t moved or opened her eyes is probably because she’s in too much pain to be fully awake.”

Bill’s expression turned to one of guilt. Tonks just seemed to think harder.

Molly was the one that questioned him. “How do you know this, Severus?” she asked, a bit suspiciously it seemed.

Severus explained again that he’d heard her, as if she was projecting her thoughts on him.

“Bill, do you know anything about this?”

“A bit. I’ve heard stories of two people getting cursed at the same time that could hear each other’s minds for a day or two, but nothing about sending thoughts to each other.”

“And you, Tonks?”

“Same as Bill.”

“Interesting…I wonder how that happens?”

Severus and Sirius looked at Molly incredulously, then each other, then back to her. “Are you honestly going to stand there and think about what I’ve just told you, or could we get back to healing my fiancée?”

“Does yours burn, Severus?” Bill suddenly asked.

“What?” he snapped.

“Where you were hit with the curse. Does it burn?”

He ground his teeth before speaking. “No, but it only just grazed me. That apparently wasn’t enough to give me lasting side effects like Ceridwen’s. Are we going to fix her or not?”

“Right, yes, yes, I’m sorry.”

Snape took a deep breath. It would be no use to Ceri if he were to lose his head this quickly.

“ _Aguamenti_ ,” Tonks muttered from beside her patient. Water flowed from the tip of her wand to Ceri’s mark, rolling over the wound to cover every inch of it.

Severus winced again at the screaming and begging, but this time her mark didn’t burn. The water was far too cold for her skin.

“Stop,” he snapped, walking to the bed. He sat on it carefully to avoid jostling Ceri and possibly causing her more pain. “Take it away.”

“What else is there left to do, Severus?” Tonks inquired irritably as she removed the water.

He ignored her for a moment, thinking. They could put the water in a cup and warm it slightly, so there wasn’t as much of a difference in temperance with her skin, or just keep with the cold water and let her get used to it.

Frowning, he held a hand just above the starburst over her heart. Three inches away, he could feel the heat. It hadn’t been so hot before—the curse must have been slowly heating up what it had already burned.

 _It burns_ , she had said.

“The curse burned her. Actually, it burned both of us, when it first made contact, but it was only for a moment. It seems that…it’s making her skin hotter, making the burn worse.”

It was Tonks’ turn to frown. “But wouldn’t cold water help, then?”

Severus shook his head. “It does, but it’s like all the heat from a fever migrated to this one area. With a high fever, cold water hurts because the body is so warm. It’s the same with this. The temperature difference is painful.”

“Would a cooling charm work?” Sirius asked from the doorway.

“As long as we keep the rest of her warm, I don’t see why not,” Bill answered.

“Let’s get to it then,” Tonks said.

They covered her arms and everything below her ribs with heavy blankets, and Severus ended up sitting with her head in his lap, doing the little things that kept her asleep when she was restless in hopes that it would keep her calm. As Bill and Tonks performed the cooling charm over his fiancée, Molly made sure Ceri wasn’t getting too cold and Severus again held a hand over the mark to monitor how much the charm helped.

By the fifth time for each of them, the heat was nearly gone.

“I think it’s alright to use the water now,” he said quietly.

“ _Aguamenti_ ,” Tonks whispered again. When the water touched Ceri’s skin,

“Does anybody else want to know,” Sirius piped up from the doorway, “why healing charms didn’t work?”

That made them all stop and scowl.

“Bloody hell. Why didn’t they?” Bill asked.

Everyone turned to the man on the bed.

“I can only guess that the curse was designed to block them, but I don’t really know. This curse is new—I’ve never seen it before. I just hope it wears off soon.”

After it was silent long enough that it was clear no one had anything else to say, Bill knelt on the floor next to the bed and studied Ceridwen’s wound.

“Do…do you think it’ll still burn if I touch her?”

 _I’d rather not find out, to be quite honest_ , Snape thought. “I suppose there’s only one way to know. Go on, I can see you want to.” _Oh, you arse—now you can’t hit him if he hurts her._

Biting his lip, Bill slowly moved his hand over the starburst, one finger outstretched to trace just the edge of it. When he made contact with her skin, Severus expected Ceri to shout again, but he was met with silence. He hoped that meant it didn’t hurt or the pain was bearable, instead of him just losing the connection.

“I hear nothing,” he whispered.

Bill stood and let his hand fall to his side.

“Looks like we’ve gotten it right, then,” Tonks announced.

Still standing by the door, Sirius let out a small sigh of relief.

“I’m sure she’ll wake up any second now,” Molly assured as Severus stared down at his fiancée.

“What are you planning to tell the school?” Sirius asked quietly.

“I don’t think now is the right time to discuss—”

“Oh, bullocks, Molly! It’s three in the morning—classes start in five hours. I imagine she won’t be well enough to attend, provided she’s even woken yet. And we all know Snape’s not leaving her side either way.”

“Well…” the witch started.

“Tell them the truth,” Tonks suggested. “She was injured in a battle. It’s bound to be all over the papers this morning.”

“And what of Severus?” Molly questioned.

“He _is_ her fiancé,” Bill said. “It make sense that he would stay with her. If it weren’t for the, um, age difference, it would be expected of him.”

“There. Problem solved,” Sirius added a bit smugly.

“Well then. I pray no one ever takes on the three of you in a debate,” Molly conceded with a tiny smile. “I’ll send an owl. She’ll stay here for today, at least. Bill, Dora, come with me. Let’s give these three some privacy.”

“Why does Sirius get to stay?” Tonks whined, earning a smirk and an eye-roll from Bill.

“Because,” the Weasley woman explained in a stern voice, “he was her other charge during the battle, and they’re rather important to each other; like family.”

“Oh, fine.” Tonks followed Bill and his mother from the room, shutting the door behind her once Sirius was out of the way.

Sirius sat on the edge of the bed near Ceri’s feet, just looking at her. Severus stared down at her face, gently combing his fingers through her hair. Before long, he forgot Sirius was also in the room and started muttering things to her. He asked her to wake up, promised to make the burn go away if she would just open her eyes, even resorted to telling her everything that was going through his mind.

Half an hour later, after Sirius had fallen asleep across the bed and Severus was beginning to have trouble staying awake, the girl in the potions master’s lap groaned rather loud. Then her eyes flew open with an equally loud gasp, and the first things she saw were the black depths of her fiancé’s irises.

“Bloody hell,” she said roughly, never looking away.

“Are you fully awake, or am I dreaming?”

She frowned. “I certainly hope I’m fully awake. I’m rather sick of feeling as though someone’s burning the skin of my chest off.”

He couldn’t help but laugh once. “You gave us all a right scare, you know.”

“I’d apologize, but I think I’ve paid quite the price for that already.”

“Silly girl, your pain is punishment for nothing. Rather, a mark of your foolish Gryffindor bravery.”

She smiled, and he knew, somehow, that she would not feel her injury again until she tried to move. “My foolish Gryffindor bravery saved two lives today, thank you very much.”

“That was yesterday, actually.”

“What?”

“It’s about three-thirty in the morning, I believe.”

“Bloody hell,” she said again. “I’ve got class in just a few hours!”

He tried to keep her still when she started to sit up, telling her she shouldn’t move at the moment, but he didn’t catch her quick enough. Instead of crying out, she gasped again and clutched the towel to her chest, but that only seemed to make it worse, so she let it fall away. With pain and horror confusing her expression, she looked down at her naked chest.

The starburst was still there, of course, and still almost directly over her heart. The bruised-looking skin appeared nothing like a burn, but he knew it felt like one.

“By the gods, I’ve never hurt so much in my entire life.”

“Yes you bloody have—not two hours ago you were screaming in agony in your head because Bill wouldn’t stop touching it.”

Ceridwen whirled around as best she could, gasped again, and demanded of him, “How on Earth would you know that?”

Severus tried and failed to keep his eyes on her face. She frowned when he cleared his throat, then looked down, blushed redder than he’d ever seen and pulled the towel up to cover herself.

“Well?”

“I believe the curse has…connected our minds somehow. I’ve heard stories of this, but I’ve never seen it firsthand. And before you ask, no, I have no idea how it happens.”

He glanced down for half a second.

“Cradle-robber,” Ceri muttered with a slightly evil look in her eyes.

Severus couldn’t help but smirk, glad to have some of the tension relieved. “Gold-digger,” he muttered back.


	11. His Scarred Goddess

In the two weeks following the successful raid on the Riddle House, Severus found that his soon-to-be wife was not the sort pf person who should _ever_ be anyone’s patient. She never sat still for more than five minutes unless she was tired—which wasn’t very often because she couldn’t get out of bed without the skin of her wound tearing open when she stood, so she got far more rest than she thought she needed. She complained about everything. She was never in a mood better than annoyed.

And she _constantly_ tried to get out of bed, so she was _constantly_ bleeding, which only served to frustrate her beyond thought. Then no one could clean up the blood because going within ten feet of her in that mood was practically suicidal.

Severus, on the other hand, had recovered relatively quickly after that first night, with the help of rigorous healing sessions and a fair amount of potions, but the scar still itched a little. It was easy to ignore, though—a little itch was nothing compared to what Ceri felt.

As Severus ascended the stairs, levitating both their dinners behind him, he had to admit that she wasn’t constantly in a bad mood. In the first few minutes of waking up, she always tried to pull him into bed with her to use him as a pillow. He would let her every now and then, after urging her to lie on her back so he could redress her wound while she rested.

He knocked lightly on the door to see if she was awake.

“Come in,” she called. He could tell she hadn’t been up for long.

When he opened the door, she was leaning against the wooden headboard, with her head resting on the top of it and her eyes closed. _Are you hungry?_ He tried to send the question to her through the connection the curse had created. He heard no response of any kind, so he assumed he’d failed, until she spoke.

“I wasn’t until I smelled the food. Give it here,” she commanded lazily, picking her head up so she could hold out her hand for her plate.

He let the plate fall lightly onto her hand and set the rest on the nightstand. “Not awake enough to practice yet?” They’d been trying to perfect their bond ever since she’d woken up. Tonks, Bill, Sirius, and Molly had made the rest of the Order aware of it; most of them had taken it rather well, with the exception of Potter and the youngest Weasley boy, but Severus had expected as much on their parts.

Ceridwen yawned. “No. I’ve only been up for about five minutes.”

“Eat up, then. How are you feeling?”

She didn’t answer him until she swallowed her bite of food. “Better than yesterday, thankfully.” The starburst—as many had taken to calling it—had started to burn again, briefly, after tearing open for the third time in two hours. “Did I hear Bill and Tonks saying I’ll be able to go back to school next week?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Yes, but only if your injury starts to scar again by this Friday.” It had started to already, but then the section that was scarred had torn open, straight through the middle, the night before during those two hours. Severus was in the sitting room when this happened, but her mental cry of pain had sounded clear in his head and caused him to spill his tea.

She bit her lip. “How far away is Friday?” She’s lost track of the days, what with sleeping for twelve or fourteen hours every few days.

“Three days. Today is Tuesday.”

Ceri looked down at her chest and commanded, very sternly, “Quit bleeding.”

Severus chuckled and picked up his plate.

They ate in silence after that, Ceri trying to work out how she could keep her wound from opening again. Severus took their plates to the kitchen when they were both full, finding Ceri asleep once more when he returned to her room. He shook his head with a small smile, turned out the light, changed into his nightclothes, and went to bed himself, in a room directly below hers. 

* * *

 

_Wake up._

Severus moaned in his sleep and rolled over.

 _Wake up_.

“No,” he grumbled.

_WAKE UP._

“Fine! I’m awake!” he yelled, thoroughly irritated, before he realized who had woken him. _What do you want, witch?_ Being a Legilimens had me it easier for him to learn to speak this way, though he still struggled every now and then.

_It’s Friday._

_So?_

_I want to show you something! Come here._

There were times when speaking in his head was easy for her, like now, and sometimes she wouldn’t stop sending him thoughts until it became difficult for her again.

Even so, he didn’t answer her, debating whether or not it was worth ignoring her and going back to bed,

 _I’m not leaving you alone until you get up here_.

Severus didn’t bother getting dressed since there would likely be no one but Sirius in the house today, so the cool air of the hallway and stairwell caused goosebumps to rise on his bare chest and arms as he made his way to her room.

The second he opened her door, she practically tore the front of her shirt open, what with how quickly she pulled it down to show him the starburst. He almost felt compelled to look away until she composed herself.

“See?” she said excitedly. “It’s scarring again!”

He shut the door and sat next to her on the bed so he could examine it closer, but it was still half-covered by her shirt. “Would you mind, um…?”

She pulled the covers over her head to prevent him from seeing anything, but he closed his eyes nonetheless in case it fell away from her before she wanted it to. Once her shirt was off, she uncovered her face and held the blanket over her breasts, but Severus couldn’t tell she was decent, so he kept his eyes closed. Ceri leaned over to kiss his cheek, laughing quietly.

“You can look.”

He opened his eyes warily; she was holding the blanket as low as she dared, with an amused expression.

“Why are you so excited to go back to school, might I ask?” he said as he leaned over her, willing his face not to color.

“I’ve been on bed rest for two weeks straight. The only reasons I’ve been able to walk anywhere in that time were to go to the loo and to pace about the room,” she clarified dryly. “And every single time, I would start bleeding again despite the many potions and spells used to heal me. But I forced myself not to move more than absolutely necessary these last three days, and spent most of my time performing healing spells on myself, and I believe I’ll be able to function just fine a school on Monday.”

He glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised. “While that speech was rather enlightening, Sheridan, it did nothing to answer my question.”

“I’ve barely moved in two weeks and have had little in the way of company because everyone but you is busy. I miss my friends and I’d like to be allowed to walk again. Does that suffice?”

“I suppose.”

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes.

The starburst _was_ healing rather nicely, now that he was inspecting it so closely. He didn’t doubt her for a second when she said she’d been performing healing spells on herself for three days; it clearly showed. The area that had scarred first but ripped open again looked as if nothing had interrupted its recovery in the first place, the edges of the injury were scarring over nicely, and spots toward the middle were doing the same. For the moment the scarred areas were an angry red, but due to how quickly Ceri was recovering—mostly from her own determination not to remain anything less than perfectly healthy—he was sure that, when the mark was completely healed, it would turn to white.

“You’re studying that rather intensely, Professor.”

He moved his gaze to glare up at her and nearly jumped out of his skin—her face was far closer than he’d anticipated, bringing to mind the morning her kiss had nearly brought him to his knees. She blushed; Snape guessed she was thinking of the same thing.

He stood abruptly. “It seems well enough to me, especially if you keep healing it the way you have until Monday, but I’d like to have Weasley and Nymphadora take a look anyway,” he said, voice a bit rougher than usual.

“Send them up then, when they get here. Would you mind bringing me some breakfast in the meantime?” she asked sweetly.

Severus nodded before he turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against it rather than descending the stairs, letting his head fall back and his eyes close. It was like _she_ had no idea what she did to him sometimes—and gods knew he couldn’t reason out why she had an effect on him at all. They had only been engaged for a month and a half, though there were many things in that time which had forced them to become closer much more rapidly than they would have on their own.

Taking a deep breath, he went in search of breakfast for his charge. Sirius turned out to already be up when he reached the kitchen.

“How is she? I heard you go up to her room,” he asked, setting his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the table, next to his empty plate.

Severus avoided his eyes. “She’s well. Her excitement at such an early hour is…appalling, but she should be able to go to school on Monday.”

Sirius chuckled, which finally made Severus look at him. Unlike Severus, Sirius was fully dressed, even wearing a robe and slippers still. “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning, Snape.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned. “No wonder she’s asking for breakfast, then.”

At that, the Animagus frowned. “I took some up for her no less than three hours ago.”

“I suspect she’s been healing herself since that time. Probably worked up an appetite again.”

“Ah.”

Black picked up his newspaper again, and Severus silently prepared a second breakfast for Ceridwen. For the entire two weeks that the two men had been living together, they very often shared awkward silences. Neither wanted to let their rivalry get in the way of their common goal: to do whatever was necessary to keep Ceri comfortable. Of course, because some disagreement was inevitable, they’d argued a few times, but tried to put it off until Ceri was asleep. As Severus carried Her food up to her, he knew she had to have heard at least some of those disagreements, but she was kind enough to not say anything to either man about them.

Her face broke into a smile upon his entry into the room. “Thank you; I’m starved.”

“Black says you ate earlier?”

She nodded, taking the meal from him eagerly. “I did, but I’m sure you’ve reasoned out by now that I made myself hungry again by healing myself more before I woke you.”

He settled himself at the foot of the bed. “I have.”

“Why haven’t you put on a shirt?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know, you just seem like the sort of man that doesn’t generally walk around half naked,” she answered matter-of-factly.

He couldn’t help but smirk. “And I never took you for the sort of…female…to get half-naked in the presence of her professor.”

She nearly choked on her food. “You can’t seriously be still holding that night against me? I didn’t know you were still behind me!”

“It’s still rather fresh in my memory. Granted, that’s mostly because of the neon green bra.”

Ceri set her plate on the nightstand and tossed a pillow at his face. It hit its mark with a soft _poof_. Before she could pick up her food again, he tossed it back, making her giggle.

“I should have expected that,” she laughed.

“You really should have,” he replied.

“Perhaps we can have a proper pillow fight when I’ve finished eating,” she suggested, beginning to eat again.

He scoffed. “Not a chance.”

“I’ll just keep hitting you until you hit me back,” she countered around a mouthful of food.

“All I’ve to do is leave the room.”

“I’m sure I can walk well enough to follow you.”

“I’ll just disapparate. You’ll have no way of following me then.”

“I’ll ambush you whenever I see you next.”

“Well I’m going to be ready for it now that you’ve warned me.”

“Oh, fine, but I’ll get you eventually.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t doubt that you will.”

“High praise from a man of your stature.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she was biting her lip to keep from laughing again; she was making fun of him. Not giving her the satisfaction of a reply, he chose to shake his head at her instead.

“Snape! Ceri!” Sirius called from the bottom of the stairs. “Bill and Tonks are here!”

“Send them up!” Ceri called back.

“I should get dressed now, I suppose. Are you finished with that?” He held up his hand for her mostly-empty plate.

“Yes, thank you.”

He took the place to the kitchen before heading back upstairs to put on his usual black attire, passing Bill and Tonks on the stairs on his way down. They nodded their hellos to each other, but none of them exchanged words until Severus, fully clothed, returned to Ceri’s room.

“Well, Snape, you were right.” Tonks said as soon as he entered the room.

“She’s definitely well enough to return to Hogwarts on Monday,” Weasley added.

Severus nodded, but his reply was cut off by a pillow smacking him in the face again. He glared at Ceri for half a second before tossing it back. “Funny, Sheridan.”

She just gave him a cheeky grin.

“Good,” he said to Bill, keeping an eye on Ceri. _What’s with you and pillows today?_

“What was that about?” Tonks asked.

_I’m excited. Sue me._

_Haven’t we already been over this?_ “She’s just excited to return to school.”

“Hey!”

“What? You never said I couldn’t repeat it.”

“I don’t understand…”Tonks muttered, looking back and forth between the two.

“We were having a similar conversation, mentally.”

“You know,” Bill interrupted, “this connection the scar gave you two…it seems an awful lot like telepathy.”

“What on Earth is that?”

Ceri answered for him. “It’s what Muggles think Legilimency is, only it’s more like mind-to-mind communication and sometimes involves mind control or mind-reading.”

“Strange.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I hate to interrupt such a scintillating conversation,” Tonks said, “but I think Ceri should move around as much as she can this weekend, within reason. Nothing that could make her start bleeding again.”

“Of course,” Severus answered.

“We’ll take our leave then. We’re both on lunch break, and we still need to eat.”

The two left Ceri’s room to search the kitchen.

Ceri was already standing, stretching in a way that reminded him of a cat. Her shirt rose with her arms, baring her stomach to him—as well as most her hips, because her pajama pants were actually his, and the drawstring had come loose, allowing them to ride low.

He cleared his throat.

She either ignored him or didn’t realize the point of making the sound was to get her to stop stretching that way.

He did it again.

“Something bothering your throat, Severus?” she asked innocently, finally lowering her arms to her sides.

“I just hadn’t realized how big those pants would be on you.”

She blushed for the second time that morning. “Yes, well, I wasn’t too concerned with it…after all, it’s not like I’ve been out of bed anyway. They’re comfortable.”

“Understandable. Would you like to go downstairs?”

“Ugh, gods yes!”

He chuckled as she all but ran out the door and down the stairs. 

* * *

 

Ceri was nearly tackled by Ginny and Hermione when she entered the Dining Hall on Monday morning. Harry, Ron, Neville, Luna, and Cho waited to greet her until she sat down between the two Gryffindor girls.

“How are you feeling?” Neville asked.

“Rather well, actually.” She gently touched the starburst through her robes. “Half of it’s already scarred, and the rest is coming along quickly. I’ve been healing it almost constantly since last Tuesday.”

“Why’d you want to come back so bad?” Ron inquired.

Ceri repeated the answer she’d given to Snape a few days ago of not being able to do anything. “They didn’t even arrange for me to do any schoolwork.”

“Well, it _was_ just two of the first few weeks, so you’ve got plenty of time to make it up,” Hermione pointed out.

“That’s true,” she conceded. “Snape’s already promised to help me catch up after school every day, since I have his class last.”

“Oooh, staying late with the fiancé!” Ginny teased.

Ceri swatted her lightly on the arm but grinned. “It’s not like that, Gin.”

“I know, but it’s fun to watch your face turn red like that.”

Ginny continued to tease her until they had to leave for classes, while most of the rest of the group mostly rolled their eyes at her, except for Harry and Ron. Even Hermione made a few comments whenever she passed Ceri in the halls.

When she entered Severus’ classroom, her cheeks were still pink.

“What are you blushing about?” he asked quietly as students were still trickling in.

“Oh, um, nothing, just—Ginny and Hermione have been teasing me all day.”

“About what?”

“Nothing you would find amusing.”

She could tell he wanted to know, but the last student had arrived and it was time for him to start class.

“Today you will be making Shrinking Solution. If you’ve done it correctly, it will be a bright, acid green color when you’re finished. If you brew it incorrectly, it will be a poison. Instructions are on the board. Begin.” He turned, robes billowing behind him, and returned to his desk for a moment before walking among the students.

Ceri studied the instructions as she prepared her workspace, thinking it would take her the entire class to finish. Just as she was preparing to juice the Shrivelfigs, Severus stopped next to her and leaned over her.

“You’ve missed two weeks of class. I’ve got another version of this recipe that will take you much less time, if you’d like to use it,” he offered, speaking so low she could barely hear him, though she felt his voice against her shoulder because it was touching his chest.

It took everything she had to hold back a shiver. “No, thank you. I’d rather do it the hard way. I’ll learn better.”

“I didn’t say it was easier. I said it was faster,” he defended. “I was just trying to help. My apologies.” He started to walk away.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Fine. Give it to me.”

He kept a straight face, but she could tell he wanted to smile. “Here.” He pretended to straighten her books, as one was hanging off the edge of the table, and let the slip of paper fall out of his sleeve to land on them.

“Thank you.”

Severus nodded once and moved on to the next student.

“Professor,” she called about halfway through class.

“Yes, Miss Sheridan?” he called back, striding toward her.

When he reached her, she asked, “I can’t quite tell what number eight says.”

“Juice four leeches and add them to your cauldron,” he said, then, more quietly, he read from the paper he’d given her, “Add five drops of leech juice.”

“Thank you, sir.”

His only answer was to nod, and he returned to his desk.

About half the class was already done by the time she finished her potion. She bottled it up and took it to the front for Snape to grade later, and he gave her a short list of assignments she’d missed, that she could choose three of to do. She chose to brew Draught of Living Death and its antidote, Wiggenweld Potion, and to write a report on Golpalott’s Third Law of antidotes. He wrote her choices down, and she returned to her seat to clean up and start on the report.

When class ended, she hadn’t finished much of it. Golpalott’s Third Law was the first thing Snape had gone over with the class, but she’d missed writing the report with the rest of them because of the raid on the Riddle house. She’s picked it because it was easy, though it would take a while, but she was sure the two potions would be rather difficult. And then there was the rest of the make-up work from her other classes.

She called Severus over when she finished her report.

“Finished?” he asked.

She nodded, holding it out for him.

“Good; I’ll grade it tomorrow. Come, we’ve just missed dinner and you need to eat.”

“Lord, have we really been down here that long?”

He chuckled. “Yes, we have.”

“Would you mind if I came back after we eat? I’d like to get a potion done tonight, too.” She could start on the rest of her work after that; she might be able to get a good bit of her Transfigurations assignments done.

“No.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Why not?”

“I have a personal lab in my rooms. You can use that one.”

“Oh…alright.”

She wondered why she hadn’t seen a door for it the last few times she’d been in his quarters, but it turned out to be connected to his bedroom, so she wouldn’t have found it on her own. It wasn’t very bright and was just as lacking in color as the rest of his quarters, except for her bedroom. Frankly, she’d expected as much, and she didn’t care what it looked like anyway, as long as it had what she needed—and there was no reason for her to worry in the respect. It was stocked better than his classroom.

“I suggest you start with the Draught of Living Death,” he said, “as it will take you far less time to brew than Wiggenweld Potion. Can’t have you working yourself into the early morning hours.”

“I was already planning to start with that, sir.”

He sighed, sounding frustrated. “You cannot seriously be back to calling me ‘sir,’ can you?”

She shook herself. “No, of course not. I’ve just been calling people ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’ all day. Sorry.”

“Ah. I understand. In that case, I’ll leave you to it. Good luck.”

He left, and Ceri immediately set to work gathering the ingredients she needed. She pulled her pitch black hair into a messy braid, but before long, some strands came loose to hang around her face. She tucked them behind her ear or blew them out of the way, but that never put them out of her way for long. She forget the disobedient locks, however, when it came time to cut the Sopophorous bean.

It jumped all over the place whenever she thought she had a good hold on it, or whenever the knife blade touched it. She managed to catch it before it “jumped” off the table and onto the floor almost every time, but the one time she missed it, she hit her head as she stood.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, rubbing the back of her head, followed by a stream of obscenities.

Severus had been reading a book on the sofa, amusing himself by listening to her grumble profanities at the little thing. He’d also heard something in the room _thump_ against what had sounded, to him, more like it had fallen on the floor. Her shriek of pain and more swearing told him she’d hurt herself instead.

“What did you do?” he asked before he’d even entered the small room, only halfway through his bedroom.

“This little bastard you call a Sopophorous bean bloody _jumped_ onto the floor. I hit my head standing up after I caught it.” She rubbed the back of her head again, with a less than happy look on her face, and turned back to her work to make another attempt at cutting the bean.

“Wait,” he chuckled. “There’s a much more effective way to do this.” He stood behind her, reaching around her to hold the bean in one hand, while his other guided the hand she was holding the knife with. “Crush it. Don’t cut it.” He turned her hand in his, so that the blade was flat on the bean, and she pressed down on it on her own. It made a slight crunching sound, leaking juice instantly. “Now just add the juice to the cauldron.” She held it over the steaming liquid, squeezing it until it would give her nothing else.

“Thank you,” she said, surprise coloring her tone.

“Now stir it counterclockwise seven times, then once clockwise,” he murmured, still close behind her. He rested his hands on the table on either side of her.

Ceri could feel the way his chest rose and fell with his breath, which was cool on her neck. It took all of her concentration to keep count of the number of stirs with him so near. She couldn’t fathom the effect he was having on her, or why the way his robes wrapped around her legs made her so warm; the material was rather thin, yet it might as well have been a down blanket.

“Good,” he praised when she finished. “I won’t know for sure until I test it, but it looks perfect.”

“Thank you,” she repeated quietly, breathless. She turned her head to see him better. “I imagine you just saved me quite a bit of time.”

Severus shrugged, studying the potion. Why did it seem like he was avoiding her eyes? “It would have been unfair of me to not share my knowledge with you.”

At that, she barked a laugh, turned around completely and leaned against the table. “I noticed you never told any of your other students that.” Like this, he appeared to tower over her even more than he usually did.

“Yes, well, you’re the only one of my students that I’m engaged to,” he pointed out.

Before he could think about that and cringe, Ceri said, “How scandalous of you to be engaged to one of your students, Professor,” with a smirk.

He couldn’t help but smile, ducking his head to look her in the eye easier. “And how indecent of you to not break it off.”

Her smile faded. She leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “Maybe I’m not opposed to it anymore.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him, so he settled for staring at her with a dumbstruck expression.

“You can’t be _that_ shocked. My kissing you should have tipped you off.”

Severus recovered. “I…It’s more from you actually saying it, I think, not the admission itself.” A little line formed between his eyes. “Did that make any sense?”

“Not really, but I understood.” She switched to speaking inside his head. _You knew I wasn’t totally against it, but you had no idea that I have no objection whatsoever anymore, yes?_

“Exactly,” he whispered.

She hadn’t leaned away, and the tension from Friday morning had returned. He was having difficulty keeping his eyes and lips where they belonged: on her face and far away from her, respectively.

“You should let your hair out. It’s too pretty to be stuck in a braid,” he muttered, unable to stop himself. Severus had never understood why she only tended to wear it down when she went to Order meetings.

Keeping her eyes on his, she slowly unraveled her hair, letting it fall around her in light waves.

“Much better,” he purred, knotting one of his hands in it, just behind her ear. Recently, while she’d been laid up in bed, he’d been having difficulty keeping himself from doing exactly this. Now, though, he was entranced. This creature before him could not be from this world; she was too beautiful. Surely, that molten gold gaze of hers belonged in the heavens, with the goddess that shared her name.

“Are you alright, Severus?” In those few seconds, his breathing had sped up.

“What are you doing to me, witch?” he whispered, knotting his other hand in her hair, pinning her to the table with the rest of his body. “What are you doing to me? I don’t understand it.”

“I—I’m not doing anything to you, sir,” she gasped. “On the contrary, you’re doing some rather extensive damage to my nerves.” She was looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Oh? How so?”

“I can’t decide if you’re about to kiss me or not.”

“Would you like me to?”

“You already know the answer to that, don’t you?”

“Yes…Yes, I think I do.”

His lips crashed onto hers, taking her breath away. She clutched at his shirtfront, ensuring he stayed right where he was, until he let go of her hair. For a moment, she was ready to protest and pull him back, but then his hands were on her hips, holding her firmly in place. She wound her arms around his neck, standing on tip-toe to give her neck a break from bending back so far. He leaned down, picking her up by the backs of her knees, to press her into the doorframe. She locked her ankles behind his back, ignoring the way the wood was digging into her spine, and he gripped her hips again to keep her up.

“May I ask how far you intend for this to go?” she asked when he removed his mouth from hers to trail kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

He stopped to look up at her. “No further than this, my dear.”

“Good,” Ceri breathed, relaxing minutely. “Good.”

Severus eyed her curiously. “Do you honestly think I would allow myself to—”

“Please, just kiss me.”

He obliged.


	12. Safe Haven

The Thursday following her return to school, Ceri stayed after class with Severus to brew the Wiggenweld potion. A few other students had stayed late, as well, to finish the classwork. She worked silently and efficiently, more than ready to be done with makeup work, but there were still Charms and Ancient Runes assignments to be finished when she returned to Severus’ quarters later. About ten minutes after the majority of the class had left, her fiancé rose from his desk and announced that he would return momentarily before sweeping out of the room, casting a knowing glance at Ceri when he passed her, telling her he knew she wasn’t as focused on her work as she appeared to be.

Her lips curved into a small smile, and her cheeks turned pink. _Concentrate_ , she chastised herself, before sending to Snape, _You really must stop looking at me like that while I’m trying to work._ She turned back for a moment to pretend to glare at his back.

His only answer was to glance at her one last time before he left the room. A few moments later, his reply came. _That’s hardly any fun._

She rolled her eyes.

Whispers reached her ears from the other side of the room. Ceri reflexively glanced over, but did a double take when she saw the two Ravenclaws staring at her openly while they gossiped. She scowled, but turned away. If they were talking about her, she didn’t want to know what they were saying.

“Ceri,” the boy called.

She sighed softly and looked at him. The girl was attempting—poorly—to hold back a grin. “What?”

“Why weren’t you in school these last two weeks?” She wasn’t sure, but that seemed like a loaded question.

She scowled. “I was injured and stayed with a friend. It was all over the papers.” The Order and its members might not have been a secret since Voldemort’s fall, but they’d kept their meeting place well hidden.

“Any friend in particular?”

“Sirius Black.” He pretended to live in a Muggle city for a job so he had an excuse to keep people from visiting him. “Again, it was in the papers. May I finish my potion in peace, please?”

The girl snickered, and the boy nodded. Ceri turned back to her cauldron, but was interrupted again.

“Sirius Black, eh?” the girl asked.

Ceri fought a groan, sighing heavily instead as she again turned to them. The other students in the room seemed to be just as annoyed with the interruptions as she was.

“Why are you two so bloody interested in who I stayed with?” she demanded hotly.

The girl smirked again. “Oh, no reason. It’s just that Snape was gone, too, so a lot of us assumed that he was, I don’t know, _entertaining_ you while you healed.”

Ceri opened her mouth to deny it, but knew she wouldn’t be believed, so she settled on shaking her head at the girl and going back to her potion while trying to keep the heat from her face.

“What, you’re not going to tell me I’m wrong?” the girl taunted.

She sighed again. “No, I’m not, because I know you’ll think it’s true either way. And because both of you have thus far proven too immature for me to bother conversing with you any longer,” she said curtly. “Now leave me alone.”

“Or what?” asked the boy. “You’ll tattle on us?” Ceri ignored him. She heard him walk over to her, stopping just behind her. “Tell you what, if you meet me later, we’ll leave you alone,” he offered.

Ceri again thought he was asking more than he was saying. “I’m not meeting you anywhere. Why would I, when I don’t even know you?”

He set his hand on her waist. She whirled, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Oh, come on,” he insisted. “I thought you were giving it out freely since you got engaged to the bat of the dungeons.”

“What are you talking about?”

He rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows you shagged Snape in the corridors in the first week of school, and then you did it with Draco just days later. Or is it just Slytherin’s you’re sleeping with?”

Her hand cracked across his face, instantly reddening his cheek. “How dare you!” she yelled.

Severus had chosen then to return. He froze in the doorway with papers in his hand, eyebrows raised in a stunned expression. “What’s going on in here?” he demanded when the room’s occupants all faced him at once.

Humiliatingly, Ceri’s eyes stung and tears welled up, threatening to fall. She crossed her arms, suddenly fascinated by the hem of her robes. The Ravenclaw had recoiled a few feet when she’d slapped him, but still stood in front of her. His hand was pressed to his cheek.

“Sheridan, are you alright?” Severus asked slow, with a wary tone to his voice. When she just ignored him, his look of concern turned into a glare as his eyes found the Ravenclaw. “Mister Wallis, care to explain?”

“No, sir,” the boy answered.

Snape turned to the girl. “Miss Lane?”

She shook her head.

Severus strode slowly into the room, arms crossed like Ceri’s, lips pursed in annoyance. “Well, somebody had better give me some answers. I’m not above using Legilimency to find what I want.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Ceri finally spoke up albeit quietly.

He studied her for a moment, eventually deciding to let it go for the moment. “Fine,” he muttered. “Get back to work. All of you.”

“Sir,” she called, “may I just do one thing first? It will only take a moment.”

“Quickly.” He averted his gaze.

She sent a stinging jinx at Wallis.

“Sir!” he shrieked. “Are you just going to let that go?”

Severus’s only response was an expression of disdain and a terse, “From what I heard upon my return, you deserved it. Besides, I saw nothing.”

“I’ll go to McGonagall with this,” he growled.

He held back a laugh. Barely. “And then you will be forced to tell her why Sheridan felt the need to do such a thing. I’ve only ever met two Gryffindors who intentionally injured another student—and now one is dead and the other has taken her—” he pointed at Sheridan, “—as his own daughter. Any argument you could come up with would be futile.”

Wallis could only glare.

“Now, either shut up and leave Sheridan alone or get out of my classroom altogether.”

Wallis moved back to his own work area, glaring at either Snape or Ceri every few minutes. She finished up her potion as quickly as possible without ruining it, bottling it up to take to his desk twenty minutes later. He stopped her when she turned to leave with a soft call of her name.

He cast a charm to keep their conversation private. “What happened?” he asked gently without standing, looking up at her.

She described the conversation leading up to the slapping incident, watching his expression turn darker the longer she talked.

“Well, there’s not really anything I can do about that, but—”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know. All the same, you know I would if I could, whether you asked It of me or not.”

She sighed, crossed her arms, and stared at her feet. “I’m not sure which would be better: you getting involved or staying out of it. I’ll be ridiculed more either way.”

His brow furrowed. “Why?”

She laughed once, not happily. “You of all people should know that chil—that people will use anything as ammunition. ‘Your fiancé isn’t defending you? Guess you’re only his whore!’ ‘Snape’s looking out for you? Guess he doesn’t like anyone messing with his whore!’” She was shouting by then; the other students could tell by her sharp movements, though they couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Severus grasped her hand behind the desk. “Go home. Have your friends over. Forget your work for today; just cheer yourself up. I’ll be round shortly.” He would have pulled her into his arms, but that would have been counterproductive with the other students watching with not-so-subtle glances.

“Nowhere’s home anymore,” she whispered dejectedly.

Well that stung. “You know what I meant.”

She only nodded and turned away to collect her books, then walked out of the room to find something she could distract herself with. 

* * *

 

She was curled up on his couch, staring into the fire she’d started a while ago, when he finally came through the door. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been watching the flames dance back and forth, but by the way he moved—nervous, even a little skittish—she guessed it had been hours. He was supposed to have come back soon after she did.

“Sorry I’m late,” he started cautiously. “The other students took longer than I anticipated, there was a bit of a scuffle in the corridor—”

“I don’t care,” she deadpanned. A couple of petty seventh-years’ jabs shouldn’t have such a drastic effect on her, but she knew that they would go gossiping to their friends. And the remark about shagging Severus _and_ Draco could only have come from Draco himself. Whether he’d started such a rumor before he apologized, which had been quite a spectacle, didn’t matter. It was said and could not be unsaid, and now there were rumors flying about the school that she was some sort of whore for the Slytherins.

“Ceridwen,” Severus said softly but firmly at her ear. He was leaning on the back of the couch, supporting himself on his elbows.

She jumped. He had a knack for moving noiselessly. “What?”

“I’ve been saying your name for a full minute. Did you truly not hear me?”

Ceri only blinked at the fire.

“Why are you acting like this? It’s an unusual response for you,” he murmured, walking around the sofa to sit next to her. “I’d expected rage.”

“It’s not just those two that’s bothering me.”

“Have other students been saying things to you?” His voice took on a hard edge.

She sighed. “No, but they’ve clearly been saying things _about_ me. I’m sure the entire school already knows about the mishap after class.”

“And what’s wrong with that, exactly?”

“What’s wrong with that is, they’ll also know what provoked me. Lane and Wallis will undoubtedly have told all their friends by now that I hit him not because he called me the Slytherins’ whore, but because it’s not a secret anymore.” She tipped herself sideways, falling over so that her head was in his lap.

“I’m sorry.”

She knew he was apologizing for more than just the matter at hand.

“It’s alright,” she whispered.

With neither of them having anything else to say, Severus combed his fingers through her hair. She pulled as much of his robes over as she could manage, wrapping herself up in the thin fabric as tightly as possible. He pulled her up after a few minutes so that her legs were across his lap and her head was on his chest to make it easier to pick her up.

He carried her to his bedroom, where he set her carefully on the bed and summoned a too-big shirt for her to wear. He wandered into the bathroom while she changed, returning not long later in his usual nighttime attire of simple black pajama pants. Severus climbed into bed after summoning a book, holding his arm out for her once he was settled and she’d followed his lead. She buried herself in his side without hesitation.

It was only a little after eight o’clock, so she asked, barely loud enough for him to hear, if he would read to her from whatever book he’d brought with him. He complied, but found that she was lulled asleep in less than twenty minutes. He read to himself for a while longer, deciding around eleven that he ought to get some sleep himself. He set the book on his bedside table, wandlessly put the lights out, and sank further into the blankets. Ceri adjusted to his movements without waking, wrapping an arm around his stomach and resting her head on his chest, just under his chin.

Severus kissed the top of her head, and was asleep in seconds. 

* * *

 

The following morning, Ceri skipped breakfast, not caring for the moment that her friends would probably worry. She couldn’t face any of them right now. Instead, she slept even later than Severus—her first class wasn’t until nine—and only left the warm bed when he dropped a kiss on the side of her forehead (which left him surprised at himself for kissing her twice in less than twelve hours) and told her she needed to wake up if she wanted to make it to class on time.

She grumbled complaints at him, but nonetheless hauled herself out of bed. He chuckled, but the sound cut off quickly.

“What?” she slurred, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Nothing. I’ve a class to teach; I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Alright.” She shuffled into the bathroom, hearing the front door close with his exit.

She checked herself in the mirror, wondering if something about her appearance had caused the laugh to die in his throat, since he’d been looking at her. The shirt was a little short, sure, if it had been intended as a dress, but it wasn’t; it was one of his, so it fell halfway to her knees.

Then again, it was one of his few pieces of white clothing. Probably the light had played a trick on his eyes.

She blushed, hurried to get dressed, and rushed to her first class. 

* * *

 

By Saturday, Severus thought she seemed relatively recovered from her social embarrassment, at least for the day. They had an Order meeting to attend, and she’d been goofing off with her Weasley twin since the moment they’d arrived.

Actually, he was fairly sure they were all planning some sort of prank.

He poured a cup of tea in the kitchen and walked it out to where the three of them were talking in the sitting room. After pressing the warm drink into her hands from behind, he circled his arms around her waist for a moment before pulling back, leaving only his hands on her hips as she thanked him.

“What are you lot plotting over here?”

“Nothing of your concern.” Ceri smirked as she took a sip.

“I’ll leave you to yourselves, then.” He let one hand trail along the small of her back as he left, making her shiver.

“He’s being awfully touchy,” Fred observed, waggling his eyebrows at Ceri while George grinned deviously at her.

She couldn’t help but giggle at their expressions, but was serious a moment later. “It’s been a stressful couple of days. Two Ravenclaws started a rather nasty rumor. Actually, no, they didn’t _start_ it, they just…I don’t’ know, gave it more fuel, I guess.”

“Doesn’t explain all the touchy-feely,” George argued.

Ceri exhaled sharply and shrugged, feeling defensive even though she knew they were only curious. “I suppose he gets like that when I’m upset. You know, you wouldn’t think it, but he’s really very attentive. Compassionate. He knows when I need him.”

“Mm,” Fred mumbled, giving her a knowing look.

“I sense your feelings about the engagement have changed,” George observed.

She shrugged again. “I don’t much mind it anymore. And he knows that. I think he’s relieved, to tell you the truth. He puts on this fearless, snarky, couldn’t-give-a-damn attitude, but disapproval bothers him deeply.”

The twins only stared, mouths hanging open.

Her cheeks flamed. “Right. Back to what we were discussing earlier…”

None of them knew Severus had heard them, or that he was propped against the wall just next to the arch leading into the sitting room, with his head back and his eyes closed. It didn’t concern him that she’d just revealed all that to Fred and George—they were very dear to her, and she to them; they wouldn’t betray something so personal to anyone else. No, what bothered him was that he wasn’t being so “touchy-feely” toward her simply because she’d had a bad couple of days. He was getting protective and possessive, yes, but more than anything he liked the way her skin felt on his lips, under his hands, pressed against his own—

 _Stop right there,_ he ordered himself.

Remus emerged from the kitchen. “Ah, Severus, there you are,” he called, causing Severus to flinch, sure Ceri would know he’d been near enough to hear her.

“Lupin,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“Would you please wait for me in the kitchen?”

“Why?”

“I’d liked to speak with you and Ceri about something.”

“I suppose.” He seemed to float past, what with the billowing of his robes.

A few moments later, after Severus had settled in a chair with a glass of wine, the werewolf and Ceri joined him in the otherwise empty room. Remus picked up a cup of tea sitting on the table, waiting for Ceri to sit down before he spoke.

“I wanted to speak with you about your…engagement.”

“Get on with it, then,” Severus said grumpily.

“Right. You two seem to be getting along rather well,” he started, before taking a sip of his drink. “I daresay you’ve even grown rather fond of each other. Comfortable.”

They both nodded, but it was Ceridwen that spoke. “We are, yes. Nonetheless, I think we’re both glad we won’t be required to… _do_ anything just yet. We can put off _that_ part of the marriage for a while yet.” She looked at Severus for agreement, and he nodded.

“Most definitely. This is an awkward enough position for both of us without forcing intimacy into the mix.”

Ceri frowned slightly.

Severus locked eyes with her, reaching for his glass. _Now, I wasn’t insulting you and you know it. Neither of us is drawn to that._

_I know, I know. Sorry._

“About that, um…” Remus looked down at his cup, swirling its contents as if to mix them, though there was nothing in it that would separate. “Actually…the Ministry now requires that newlyweds consummate their marriage directly after the wedding.”

Severus choked on his wine. Ceridwen blanched.

Remus grimaced. “Kingsley was overruled about the passing of that law. Even he doesn’t know why the Ministry wanted it. I didn’t even know he could be overruled.”

They could only stare at him, occasionally glancing at each other.

“When was this decided?” Ceri demanded.

“Yesterday evening. Kingsley owled me as soon as it was final. He says it’ll be in the papers on Monday.”

Before Remus spoke to all of the Order about mounting another attack on the Death Eaters, Ceri told the twins that they should save the prank for the next meeting.

She could already hear the whispers. 

* * *

 

Sure enough, two long, incredibly uncomfortable days later and after skipping breakfast again, people were shamelessly muttering to each other in her first class. Keeping her head bowed, she took a seat in the front row, hoping to ignore them easier. She should have learned by now that that did not, in fact, make it any easier. All through class, she was taunted with notes and comments while the professor’s back was turned. None of them were overly horrible; most were clearly just to get under her skin. No one in the class seemed to be able to come up with anything intelligent.

Until dinner came, that was how the majority of her day progressed—in her Potions class, it was much quieter. Severus gave them a speech before he started them working and then hexed the first person to disobey him, disregarding the rules that prohibited teachers from using magic to punish students. That shut everyone else up. It had been a relief to work in relative peace.

It was as she walked toward the Great Hall that they found her.

“Oi, Sheridan!” someone called.

Turning, she found that it was Wallis, with Lane at his side and other students, mostly Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws, following them.

She whirled away from them, trying and failing to get away because Wallis and Lane blocked her path.

“I think she’s trying to run away, Marvin,” Lane said, with a cruel smile twisting her lips.

“I’d say she is, Jena,” Wallis agreed as the same expression crept onto his face.

“Leave me alone,” Ceri ordered, hoping she sounded more confident than confused.

“I don’t think we should. Besides, I was curious about whether or not you’d seen the news this morning, not that it really matters.”

“You’ve already ‘ _consummated_ ’ your engagement.”

“Not to mention about a dozen more relationships.”

“I’ve done _no_ such thing!” Ceri finally squeaked.

Wallis—Marvin, Lane had called him—stepped forward to tilt her head up with a finger curled under her chin. The grin that broke out on his face was slightly frightening. “Now, now, no need to deny it. We all know the truth. So why don’t you be a good little whore and let us have some fun, hmm?”

He stepped forward again, forcing Ceri to move back, until she felt cold stone on her back. The small crowd followed them, creating a ring around them that Ceri couldn’t see through.

“What are you doing?” She made a grab for her wand, but his hand shot out to pin both of her wrists up next to her head.

“Just relax. You’ve done this before, remember?”

“Get away from me.” Her voice shook.

Severus would show up any second now to rescue her. Right? He had to. He would.

“Relax.” Roughly, he shifted her wrists to hold them in one hand and pulled her robes off her shoulders. A loud tearing sound made her heart sink further than it already had. The sudden cold on her lower stomach told her he’d ripped her sweater, though she wasn’t about to try to figure out how he’d managed that by pulling her robes off.

When he lifted the hem of her skirt, blind panic overtook her. She bit into his hand, hard, making him howl in pain, but he didn’t let her go, only pressed his body against hers, crushing her on the wall. Finding breathing difficult, she brought her knee up to his groin, though she couldn’t get much power behind the blow. Even so, he doubled over, releasing her almost instantly.

She made a break for it, diving through the group. It was a struggle, seeing as they tried to restrain her none too gently, but a few weak punches and bites ensured that she got through them. Not paying attention to where she was going, she shoved students out of her way, glancing behind her to find no less than eight of Wallis and Lane’s crowd chasing her.

She didn’t realize she was heading for the main entrance of the castle until she was outside. The night’s chill didn’t stop her pursuers, though, so she kept going, escape the only thing she could think of. At last she reached a small copse of trees just outside the wards and scrambled up one of them, breathing heavily. The group chasing her passed right underneath her.

She couldn’t go back to the school, not yet. They’d just find her and corner her again before she could get to Severus’ quarters, and Wallis would undoubtedly make sure she wouldn’t be able to get away that time. Ceri fell back on the trunk of her tree, shaking with adrenaline more than cold, mortification and residual fear clouding her thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down enough to think straight. She needed to go somewhere. Grimmauld Place, the Burrow, or Fred and George’s flat would be the obvious choices, but she was too humiliated to deal with anyone who might be home right now.

_“I will never be able to think of this place as a safe haven, Professor, I’m sorry.”_

_“People will ridicule us both, and this place will be the only peace you have. It_ will _become your sanctuary, I promise you that, if for no other reason than people are cruel.”_

Heaving a great, unsteady sigh, she pulled out her wand and disapparated.

As per her usual luck, she supposed, rain pelted her the moment she appeared on the street in front of the small house on Spinner’s End. She darted up the three stairs to its porch, muttering the spells that should have allowed the door to open. After five full minutes of nothing happening, she gave up. Tossing her wand away in frustration, she crumbled onto the steps, shivering, and dropped her head onto her arms, which she’d folded on top of her knees. Salty tears leaked from her eyes as her body shook with her cries.

_How could you forget to adjust the wards!_

She hadn’t realized she’d sent the thought to Severus until he apparated right in front of her and his voice gave her a jolt.

“I didn’t forget, I just never bothered because I never even dreamed you’d have any reason to come here without me while classes were in session,” he explained, getting just as soaked as she was and having to shout over the rain. “Do you realize how long you’ve been gone? What the bloody hell happened?”

“They just watched!” she screeched. “They were just going to _watch_ while he did that to me!”

Severus was kneeling in front of her in an instant. “What? What did he try to do? And who is ‘he?’”

Her only answer was to whimper and throw her arms around his neck.

Nearly falling on his arse, he held her to him with one arm around her waist and his other hand on the back of her neck. “Lots of drama lately, hmm?”

She started to laugh, but the sound dissolved into sobs.

“Come,” he said softly next to her ear. “Let’s get you inside before you catch cold.”

She clung to his side the way she did when she was traumatized or in desperate need for something to keep her sane as he let them inside. He performed a spell to dry their clothes, but she was obviously still beyond cold, so he summoned blankets from both their bedrooms to wrap around them both, cocooning them in warmth, once he’d moved her to the sofa. She was grateful that he didn’t see the tear in her sweater.

“Better?”

She nodded.

“Tell me what happened,” he ordered gently.

After curling up tighter, clutching parts of his robes in her fists, and letting her forehead fall onto his shoulder, she let the story fall out of her mouth in one breath. He tensed more the longer she talked.

“I’ll kill him,” he finally said. “I’ll—”

“No. That’d be a kindness.”

Severus growled. “Why didn’t you call for me?” he asked, his mood shifting faster than Ceri could follow. He cupped her cheek with one hand, moving her head to make her look at him. “Why?”

“All I could think about was getting away. And he was about to—to­—”

“It’s alright. You’re alright. I’m here. He can’t get to you while I’m around.”

“But you’re not always around.”

“Silly girl,” he muttered. “You know I come running when you call.”

She chuckled half-heartedly. “Indeed.”

He swept midnight hair from her eyes, shaking his head at her. Seeming to say, _What am I going to do with you?_ She sighed, holding back another wave of tears, though she was unable to stop a few from trickling out. He brushed them away with his thumb, and she angled her face into his hand, keeping her eyes on his.

Ceri inched closer, glancing from his eyes to his lips. A line formed between his brows, but he didn’t stop her, unsure of what she was even doing. It caught him by surprise when she brought her lips crashing down on his. He recovered quickly enough, moving both hands to her hips as she shoved the blankets out of her way and straddled his lap.

It took him until she started unbuttoning his coat to gain some sense.

“No, no, no, no, no. Not now, and certainly not while you’re in this state.” He pried her fingers away, regretting it instantly despite knowing it was the right thing.

And to think they’d been telling Remus, _and each other_ , that this sort of thing was awkward not three days ago.

Ceri pouted, sitting up straight and letting her full weight fall on his legs. He groaned and lifted her off.

“ _That_ , my dear, is not the answer to your problem and you know it,” he chastised.

She crossed her arms, still pouting. “You were enjoying well enough,” she groused.

With a sigh, he pulled her back. “Listen to me,” he commanded quietly. “I’ve told you before: I am _not_ going there with you anytime soon. You’re too innocent. I’d ruin you.”

“Well, we’ll have to ‘go there’ as soon as we’re married—what’s the point?”

“Your brain is scrambled. You wouldn’t even be thinking of this now if that poor excuse for a human being hadn’t tried what he did.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“And a cold shower for you.”

“One in which you are most certainly _not_ invited, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Buzz-kill.”

“Better that than a cradle-robber.” He gave her a peck on the cheek, nudging her to get up. “Wait, I already am.”

Severus had a feeling she’d started suppressing what Wallis had nearly done in order to cope with it better, so he didn’t try to coax anything else about it out of her. They would sleep there tonight and deal with Wallis tomorrow.

He was hesitant to leave her in a room alone for the night, but he didn’t trust himself not to turn her away again if she decided she wanted to try seducing him one more time. So, when she crawled into his bed around midnight, he opened his mouth to tell her to leave. She gave him the most pleading look though, curled up next to him under the sheets, and he couldn’t make her leave, especially when he saw that she had somehow stolen one of his shirts.

He turned onto his side and she did the same, using his bicep as a pillow. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her back to his chest, and she caught his hand on both of hers, bringing it to rest over the starburst on her chest.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, half asleep already.

“Because I couldn’t bear going anywhere else.”


	13. The Wrath of Severus Snape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I can't apologize enough for not posting until now. Honestly, I've had plenty of time to do this, but I was procrastinating for a while. Also, sorry if the aforementioned wrath doesn't live up to your expectations.

They ate breakfast at home the next morning, before Severus apparated them to Hogsmeade. It was early enough that they didn't hurry to the school, and the crisp, cool morning air served to calm Ceri's nerves about confronting Marvin Wallis and Jena Lane that afternoon. Severus had promised not to outwardly go after the two, or any of their friends, unless they went after Ceri first. "If that happens," he'd said, "I will show no mercy. Rules be damned." When they reached the Great Hall and had to separate, his parting look was filled with both fury and worry. She managed a small smile, and then Ginny and the Golden Trio were upon her.

"Ceri!" Ginny shrieked, making her jump. "We've all been so worried!"

Hermione enveloped her in a hug, which Ceri eagerly returned.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked.

Hermione let Ceri go, got an offended look on her face, and smacked Ron's arm. "Of course she's not okay! You know what happened."

Ceri felt her cheeks warm. "You…you all know?" she asked fearfully. Did the entire school see?

All at once, the group looked down at their shoes. Harry was the one to speak. "Well…yeah. I mean, it did happen right in the hall there…It's a bit hard to miss a ring of people forming around someone. It was easy to figure out what was going on, so we went to get McGonagall."

She took a few stumbling steps back from them, confused. "Wait, so…you all knew what was going on?"

They nodded.

"And it took four of you to get one person?"

"Well—" Hermione tried.

"And there wasn't anyone else willing to step in? To help me?" It was getting hard to breathe.

"I suppose everyone thought you'd be able to, I dunno, magic your way out of it. You are a witch, Ceri."

Harry, who had responded, started and nearly fell over when she turned to glare at him with tears beginning to cloud her vision. "He had my arms pinned against the wall. And don't you dare say anything about wandless magic. Do you really think I was in a mindset for that to be of any help? Merlin." Her voice cracked. "I don't believe you." She spun on her heel, yanking her wrist out of Ron's grasp as he tried to prevent her from leaving. "Don't touch me!" she ground out over the lump in her throat. "Don't even come near me!"

Not paying attention to where she was going or if she would end up being late for class, she set off in a random direction. Left, right, up one set of stairs, down another. She just wanted to get away from everyone. Sure, her friends had run off to get the Headmistress, but why hadn't at least one of them stayed? Another minute or two, and she would have been beyond saving—by herself or anyone else.

Finally, after Merlin only knew how long, she found a secluded corner and let herself fall apart again, with the hood of her robes covering her head and the rest of it wrapped around her. What was the point in even trying to keep herself together if she was always coming apart at the edges? Why was there always some sort of problem keeping her from being happy for more than, oh, a few days? She knew the saying, "Life isn't fair," but she hadn't expected it to prove true so often.

"This is all the Ministry's fault," she groaned to herself, tasting her own salty tears. If it weren't for the marriage law, none of this would be happening. It would just be a normal school year, except that there were quite a few of last years' seventh-years that returned to complete their schooling. And that was all she wanted—just a normal year. Just that.

"Ceridwen," a gentle voice whispered. "They weren't thinking clearly. They panicked and did the first thing they could think of." A hand pulled her hood away; fingers ran through her hair.

"They left me with him," she sobbed.

Severus pulled her into him with a slight groan of effort. "Listen to me, my dear: when they and McGonagall found me, they were absolutely frantic. They had no idea where you'd gone, or what Wallis might have done to you. McGonagall was on the warpath; apparently they'd seen the group chase you out of the castle and she split with your friends to follow the others."

"He almost got away with it…"

"And if he had, be sure I would have killed him by now."

She unfurled from the ball she'd curled herself into and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "I should probably go apologize."

Severus returned the embrace, wishing desperately that he knew what he could do to help her feel better and stay that way. "No need. They understand. They know you, Ceri, so they know you're a bit irrational and you're making quick conclusions right now."

"They still didn't deserve that. I was wrong, so I should say sorry," she pushed.

He sighed. "If you insist. Come on, then."

Her friends would hear nothing of an apology, even though she repeated it profusely. Hermione suggested a weekend at the Burrow if McGonagall would allow it, stating that she thought Ceri needed some time with her best friends. Even Severus, as much as he disliked the pranksters, had to agree with the little know-it-all and promised to bring it up during the meeting regarding Wallis and Lane.

Thankful his first class didn't start for another thirty minutes, Severus walked Ceri to her class. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Ron promised to escort her between classes, adding that they would recruit Neville and Luna when they were able to. He chuckled to himself as he walked away; Ceri was still protesting being taken everywhere like a child, but he could tell she was secretly grateful to have company, and therefore safety, wherever she went.

By the end of the day, Severus was in a dark mood. It had occurred to him at some point that the students who had formed the circle around Wallis and Ceri should be punished as well, but he had no idea whether or not Ceri would be able to recall any of them. Wallis and Lane certainly weren't going to give them up. And then, he wondered how on Earth another girl could simply sit by and watch that sort of thing without doing anything to stop it. As he made his way to McGonagall's office, he felt his heart speed up and his face flush. His hands, which had balled into fists, grew colder the longer he walked.

His entrance into the office was not a gentle one. After the gargoyle took him up, he threw the door open and then slammed his shut. Upon seeing Wallis, however, the bubble of anger sitting in his chest popped and morphed into pure, white-hot fury. The only thing that kept him from picking the boy up by his shirtfront and slamming him repeatedly against a wall before throwing him across the room was McGonagall, at her desk, very sternly saying his name.

"Violence, while deserved, will only cost you your job," she said once he turned his attention to her. She was glaring daggers at Wallis, so he had no idea how she even realized he was looking, but he knew better than to question Minerva. "Now, let me start by saying I have complete faith in you and Miss Sheridan and that no girl could fabricate such a story, or her reaction to its events." One of Ceri's friends must have already told McGonagall some of the details. "However, for something so severe, I am required to gather evidence."

Severus glowered at Wallis for a few moments. Then, scowling, he noticed something. "Where the bloody hell is Jena Lane?" Ceri wasn't here because she was still too traumatized to be anywhere near Wallis, which made him glad that their Potions lesson wasn't until later in the week, but he'd expected Lane to be present.

"She was supposed to be. I sent Argus to fetch her."

"Ah."

"Evidence, Severus. Are you able to provide any?"

"Do memories count?"

She switched between staring at Severus and Wallis a few times, eyes narrowed in thought. "That should work well enough. Wallis, do you know how to extract a memory?"

He shook his head, seeming afraid to speak. Good.

"I thought not. Well, then, I shall do it for you. It is more difficult, but it would take too long to teach you to do it on your own." She rummaged around in a drawer of her desk, found what she was looking for, and held up three four vials. "I will retrieve Wallis' memory. In the meantime, summon your fiancée and assure her that this wretched boy and Miss Lane will be kept on the opposite side of the room from her and she wil be perfectly safe."

Severus nodded, watching as Minerva approached Wallis, warning him that she would know if he altered the memory at all and that his punishment would be worse should he do so.

Ceri, you need to come to McGonagall's office. We need your memory of what happened for Minerva to be able to do anything. He received no response until he told her she didn't have to worry about her attackers, and even that was reluctant.

If I must. I don't know how to get memories out of my head, though.

I can do it for you.

Alright. I'll be there shortly.

Filch brought Lane back before Ceri arrived, for which Severus was grateful. That way, Minerva was able to get her on the other side of the room. While she was extracting the girl's memory, Ceri appeared at Severus' side. Neither said a word; he just took the last vial from where Minerva had set it on her desk and touched the end of his wand to Ceri's temple. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when Severus felt his wand warm suddenly, nearly burning his hand, he slowly pulled it back. On it was a shining silver strand, which he held over the opening of the vial before tapping his wand gently against the edge of it to make the memory fall to the bottom.

Minerva collected them all to take to the Pensieve. She watched Severus' first because he had included Ceri's friends coming to find him, how he'd found Ceri, and the way she described the incident. After viewing it, she gave Wallis and Lane another soul-shrinking glare before moving on to Lane's. She seemed to be working up to the worst, and, apparently, that was Wallis'. She was visibly shaken after seeing Ceri's; she had to take a deep breath and seemed to prepare herself for what Wallis' would show her.

Her reaction actually made Severus was to pull Ceri behind him. He had never seen Minerva this way.

"How dare you!" she bellowed, voice echoing loudly against the walls.

Severus wasn't sure if she was angry about what he'd done and seeing it made her even more enraged, or if there was something he was unaware of.

"You petty, narcissistic, misogynistic boy!" her hand cracked across his face, leaving a brilliantly red mark.

"What?" Severus said, wondering about the "misogynistic" part.

"Tell them!" Minerva commanded sharply.

Wallis turned to them, fear and defiance warring in his expression. "I sided with the Death Eaters in the battle here at Hogwarts. Ceri and I had got into a duel, and she won. I wanted revenge."

"Don't you leave it at that, or I'll send you straight to Azkaban. You should be going there anyway. It's a shame you're not of age."

"I…wanted revenge because she's a girl and she beat me."

Severus' earlier fury was returning. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the boy, staring him down like prey.

"And," Minerva prompted.

"Oh, there's more?" Severus muttered in a falsely calm voice. "Do tell, Mister Wallis."

Wallis gulped. He glanced at Lane for help, but she just looked at her shoes and crossed her arms. "Um, well, she, uh—she's got a bit of a reputation now, so I figured no one would believe her if she told."

Severus shut his eyes and breathed deep for a few seconds. He could practically feel Ceri shaking from across the room. "So you were going to rape an innocent girl for no good reason at all. And you were going to do so at the particular time you chose because you thought you could get away with it due to her false reputation?"

Wallis only stared.

"Answer me!"

He jumped. "Y-yes."

This time, Severus was able to pick him by his shirtfront before Minerva could say anything—not that she ever did. "You are no longer welcome in my class, and if you ever come within a hundred feet of my fiancée, you will beg me to kill you. Do you understand?"

Grimacing as he picked himself up off the floor, something flickered in Wallis' eyes. "I'm going to the Ministry with this—you're not allowed to punish students with abuse like this."

Minerva again did nothing to stop Severus as he crossed the room toward Wallis. Ceri had found herself a corner and sunk into it with her arms around herself, just watching the events unfold. Severus stopped just inches away from Wallis. This close, he seemed to tower above the boy.

"Excuse you?" he whispered past clenched teeth.

"I said—" Defiance sparked in his eyes. "I'll go to the Ministry with this."

With one hand, Severus slammed him into the wall. With the other, he snatched his wand from a pocket in his robes and pressed the end of it against Wallis' neck. "You have the gall to stand there and threaten to bring me to justice when you are the one who should be investigated by the Ministry?"

"I'm not of age, it's not like they can do anything but give me a slap on the wrist and send me on my way."

"Avada—"

Someone pulled his arm back.

"Don't," a soft voice said.

He looked down a bit more and to his right. Ceri's golden eyes were pleading with him. "He's not worth a lifetime in Azkaban."

Wallis smirked. "Oh, but I'm worth saving?"

She glared and slid her wand out of her pocket to point it at Wallis.

"Severus, back up."

He obeyed.

"Entomorphis."

Wallis collapsed to the ground, mouth wide in a silent scream. Antennae sprouted from his hairline as he clawed at the area around them, clearly in pain. Severus raised his eyebrows and glanced at Ceri, impressed.

"Bring that up to the Ministry, you filthy little insect."

As Wallis crawled about the floor, antennae searching for an escape, Severus and Ceri turned around. Minerva was standing and staring, while Lane's eyes were as wide as they could go.

"Miss Lane," Minerva called without looking at the girl.

"Yes?" Lane breathed.

"I am extremely disappointed in you. After you give me the names of those who formed a circle around you, Miss Sheridan, and Mister Wallis, you and Mister Wallis will be expelled. I will allow you to keep your wands to use at whatever school will take you, but I wish to never lay eyes on either of you ever again."

"What about the others?"

"They will receive detention twice a week for the rest of the term. If their attitudes warrant it, their detentions will extend to the end of this year. You may go now."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Ceri said.

Minerva tipped her head to her. "They deserve it."

"They do indeed."

"When were you informed of what Ceri's reaction had been, Minerva?" Severus inquired, putting his wand away as Ceri did the same.

The Headmistress watched Wallis, still crawling around. "No one did. I saw her this morning before she ran out of the Great Hall. Even across such a large room as that, I could see the haunted look on her face." Her expression softened slightly when she turned it on Ceridwen. "I'm so sorry, dear. You have had such a difficult start to the year."

The remind him: "Oh, Minerva, would you mind allowing me to take Ceri to the Weasley's home for the weekend? Miss Granger suggested that she have a visit with them to relieve some of her stress."

"Absolutely," she agreed without hesitation. "You may go as soon as both of your classes are over on Friday."

Severus and Ceri thanked her at the same time. Minerva laughed just a little, said she would keep an eye on Wallis until Ceri's jinx wore off, and dismissed them. Ceri took Severus' hand as they left, sighing when it warmed her own. They made no hurry to get to dinner, neither of them speaking until they reached the doorway to the Great Hall.

"I hope to Merlin that things calm down now," Ceri muttered at his shoulder.

He turned slightly to cup her face and kiss her forehead, not caring who saw. "And I hope I don't go insane this weekend," he replied with a slight grin.

She laughed quietly. "I'm sure you won't."

They parted where Ceri's friends were sitting with the rest of the Gryffindors. Severus had been right; they were having none of it when she tried to apologize for that morning, and instead begged her to tell them what was going to happen to Wallis, Lane, and their followers. After she recapped the meeting with McGonagall to them, even Ron had to admit that he was impressed with Snape. Ginny actually applauded the jinx she'd put on Wallis, and Harry and Hermione wanted to know if Snape would receive any kind of punishment for tossing a student around like a ragdoll.

"Minerva's not going to let anything happen to him. She might even modify his memory so that he doesn't remember that part."

"How did he even manage to actually throw Marvin across the room?" harry questioned, baffled.

Ceridwen shrugged. "Might have been an adrenaline rush. People have been known to lift cars when that happens, so it's not totally far-fetched that a man could throw a teenager like that."

Everyone but Ron seemed to understand. "Adrenaline rush?" the youngest Weasley said, scowling.

"Oh, Ronald," Hermione sighed. "You have got to pay more attention in Muggle Studies."


	14. Weekend Getaway, Part I

Ceri had sent an owl to Fred and George the moment McGonagall said she could visit the Burrow. She received a reply on Thursday; they were excited to see her, of course, and they wished they could hex a certain two people. She laughed to herself when she read that they wanted to pull some sort of prank. She'd expected no less. As she packed her things that night, she found herself wishing they really were her brothers…then, maybe, just maybe, her life wouldn't be so upside-down lately. Not in a bad way, at least.

Classes the next say seemed to drag on endlessly. She checked the time every five minutes, but it felt like every five hours. When lunch came around at last, she felt as if she was going to burst if she had to sit through one more lesson.

"Why can't this day just be over already?" she complained to no one in particular.

"You've only got two more classes after this," Harry pointed out, trying to be helpful.

"But Severus has three."

"Well, didn't you say this morning that you had more to pack?" Ginny asked.

"Only my toothbrush. I forgot to put it in my bag before I came to breakfast."

"At least you get to go," Ron grumbled. "You've been getting all sorts of special treatment this year."

Ceri frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You get to go on this trip, for one. Snape makes us take you everywhere and gives you top marks on everything. You haven't had to patrol at night since, what, the first week of term?"

Ceri crossed her arms, leaning back slightly with a highly offended expression. "I have always gotten top marks in Potions; it's always been my best class. And I had better keep it up, because I'm going to be a Potions Mistress after I graduate."

Ron opened his mouth to argue.

"And—" she said before he could start, "I have been through a terrible amount of shit in the past two months."

"Can't be worse than what Harry went through with Voldemort."

"Oh, really? Well, excuse me for not getting away with as much as Harry did. I suppose repeatedly being burdened with constant, halfway-traumatizing stress isn't worthy of a little leniency. Really, I must beg your forgiveness for my stupidity." She gave him a nasty glare, daring him to respond. He just hung his head. "Do you all agree with him?" After letting the other three, all of whom were just looking in different directions, feel her stare, and realizing that, yes, they did agree with him, she left the table without bothering to bring her food.

She knew how things would have gone had she stayed: eventually someone would speak up against her. Hermione would side with Ron because they were dating, Harry would because they were best friends, and Ginny would because he was her brother and she was dating his best friend. One of them would say something, and the others would just follow. And she couldn't handle that right then; she might just explode with anger.

What's the matter? Severus asked in her head.

Apparently I've been getting unwarranted special treatment all year, and Ron's jealous or something. Whatever his problem is, the rest of my so-called friends aren't' disagreeing with him. They just sat there, staring off into space.

For pity's sake. You need better friends.

Tell me about it. I so wish classes were over already so we could just get to the Burrow.

Her last two classes passed only remotely faster than the rest of her day, and the last hour waiting for Severus was practically torture—it had given her time to think.

With the way her "friends" were acting today, she was starting to wonder why she had apologized the other morning. She had every right to be hurt and angry. If she hadn't saved herself and waited for help instead, things would have turned out much differently. The people she thought were her friends neither needed help to stop that sort of thing, nor did they need the authority of a teacher. At the very least, they could have gone to Severus; he'd only been on the Great Hall at the Head Table, rather than halfway across the school.

She was startled out of her reverie by Severus closing the door. When he noticed the look on her face, all he had to do was quirk an eyebrow in silent question of the stormy expression on her face to start her off on a rant. As she spoke, she paced, her hands moved wildly about, and she threw a pillow (or five) across the room.

"You're absolutely right," Severus agreed calmly once he was certain she'd finished.

She made a face, like he was speaking another language; she'd been prepared to fight him on the subject. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? You were sitting there telling me they wouldn't take my apologies, not that they didn't deserve them!"

He took a few cautious steps toward her. "You were about to break, as you have been for a while now, Ceridwen," he said gently. "I was trying to help keep you together. Challenging whatever you believed right then wasn't the way to do that. This was something I wanted you to realize on your own; I hoped it would make you stronger."

"And what if I never did?"

Severus sighed and closed the space between them to cup her face in his hands. "Then you would have forgiven them without even knowing it. You would have thought they acted out of panic and made the wrong choice because they weren't thinking straight." He kissed her forehead. "But I knew you would, because I know understand that, sometimes, a moment of mental weakness under duress isn't always a good excuse."

Ceri let her head fall onto his chest, glad when he wrapped his arms around her. "I never thought you'd be such a good person to be engaged to," she confessed.

He laughed once. "And I never thought I'd be able to feel anything but mild tolerance for you."

"That's actually one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."

He kissed the top of her head. "Are you ready to go, my dear?"

"Yes. Our things are over there—" She pointed toward the kitchen, where their two bags were sitting on the floor next to the small table. "Let me just get my cloak."

"You won't need it," Severus called as she darted off to her room.

She leaned over so that just her head was sticking out. "Why not? Isn't it cold outside?"

"Yes, but Minerva has temporarily connected us to the Floo Network. Once we return on Monday morning, we won't be able to use it anymore."

"When did that happen?" she asked as she made her way back to the sitting room.

"During your last class. Powder's on top of the mantle. Go on, I'll bring our things." He shooed her away to the fireplace.

She stepped inside after taking a handful of powder from the small bowl of it and called out, "The Burrow!" as she let it go.

Molly caught her as she practically fell out of her fireplace.

"Whoa, dear, steady there."

Ceri couldn't help but laugh, feeling better just to be at the Weasley home. "Thanks, Molly. How are you?" She hears Severus come through behind her and start up a conversation with Arthur.

"Oh, I'm well enough. I'm more worried about you, love. Come to the kitchen, it's nearly time for supper."

Still smiling, Ceri followed Mrs. Weasley. When she could smell what was being prepared, she felt as if she might melt. Molly's cooking was, by far, her favorite.

"Now, tell me about this year, Ceri. What's been happening.?"

Severus and Arthur joined them. As she told the two people she so desperately wished were her parents about everything that had happened, Severus wound his arms around her waist from behind and rested his chin lightly on top of her head. Quite a few times, she had to stop and just breathe for a second or two, but other than that, everything was surprisingly easy to discuss. She credited that to how at ease she always was with Molly and Arthur; she could tell them anything and knew she would never be turned away.

As Ceri recounted her year, Severus caught sight of the twins, standing just out of her range of vision. He watched the looks on their faces go from sympathetic to appalled to speechlessly outraged. When she got to telling about lunch that day, they looked at each other, nodded once, and looked back at Ceri, seeming resolute in whatever decision they'd just made. Severus guessed they were going to do something about Ronald and Ginerva, if not Harry and Hermione.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Molly exclaimed when Ceri was finished. She pulled her adoptive daughter into a tight hug, and Severus reluctantly let her go.

Fred finally, for some reason, glanced at Severus as he and George were about to go to Ceri. Severus shook his head, though, wanting to give her a moment with Molly. When the two separated, Severus nodded, and the twins moved forward.

"Well, look who it is," Fred called, grinning wide.

"Our favorite little Gryffindor," George added, matching his brother's expression.

Severus was reeling for a moment after realizing he could now tell them apart.

"There you two are!" Ceri said excitedly, meeting them in the middle of the room. She threw her arms around each of them in turn, laughing and smiling and going on about how she had missed them dearly.

Severus found himself grinning a bit. He hadn't seen her so happy in a while, and it was nice to see her so lit up now. Then, Molly, called them all to dinner, snapping him out of his staring. He'd expected Ceri to sit next to him, but she took a spot between her beloved twins, instead, without even a glance at him. To his surprise, he felt a slight pang in his chest, and then he felt ridiculous for expecting her to stay by his side when she had her two best friends to be with—which was the point of this weekend, anyway.

"So, Severus, will there finally be a Halloween ball this year?" Molly asked.

He shrugged, having just taken a bite of food. After he swallowed, he answered with, "There has been a little talk of one in the last few meetings, but I'm not making any promises."

"Fair enough," Arthur said. "I wish you good luck if you want anything more out of him, Molly."

Severus smirked. He and Arthur didn't get on perfectly well, not even close, but they redheaded patriarch understood him well. "He's right, Molly." How does a Halloween ball sound? He sent to Ceri, glancing over to see her reaction.

Except, there wasn't one. She just kept on talking, no doubt about some prank the three of them were planning. Again feeling ridiculous, he tried to tell himself she'd just missed them, but he couldn't chase away the loneliness that suddenly overtook him. So, he turned back to the Weasley parents and continued on about the ball Molly was still trying to get information about and the twins' double wedding, to which he was, of course, invited, especially considering his fiancée—she would be his wife by then…still such a strange thing to think about—would be honorary best man or something. However, in the back of his mind, he was still wondering if Ceri's lack of acknowledgement toward him was for a reason or not, unable to push the thoughts away.

Around dusk, Ceri was carrying on with Fred and George, setting up a prank for the next day. All they'd have to do was free the set-up from the Immobulus spell, and then anyone who walked by would trigger it until it was disabled. Ceri was so excited to that she was shaking ever so slightly; it had been far too long since hre last prank with the twins. Just as they finished preparing it, Molly passed them, claiming tiredness and saying she was going to bed.

"Don't stay up too late, now. Can't have Ceri messing up her sleeping habits for school."

"Yes, ma'am," the twins monotone together obligingly.

"Want to help us work on some stuff for the shop for a while?" George asked.

She did, but she hadn't spoken to Severus all night and wondered what he'd been doing. "Actually, I think I'll go see what Severus is up to."

"Alright. We'll see you tomorrow, then." They took turns hugging her. "G'night."

"'Night."

They'd been on a long landing between staircases high up in the house, so Ceri had to descend three of them to get to the bottom floor, where Severus had to be. Their room was up a fourth staircase, and he hadn't come by while she was with Fred and George; their project had taken at least two hours because they kept goofing off. When she couldn't find him in most of the rooms, she thought he might be outside, but then she found him in the sitting room, reading a book with a book in his lap and one arm over the back of the sofa.

She flopped down next to him, leaning against his side under his arm. "And where have you been hiding all night?"

His response was quiet. "I've been right here the entire time. You're the one that's been running about all evening, as you should. We came here so you could have some stress-free time with your beloved Weasley twins." He turned the page.

"Are you jealous?" she teased, secretly wondering if it was true based on the coolness in his voice.

He scoffed. "Of those two? Why should I be?"

Well, that wasn't exactly an answer, but it was probably all she would be able to get out of him, so she just rolled her eyes. "How very Snape-like that answer was. Are you coming to bed?"

"Not just yet. I'd like to finish this chapter."

"Okay."

With a small line between her eyes, Ceri made her way upstairs to Bill's old room. Severus hadn't looked at her even once just now, but that could mean he was just engrossed in his book. Still, she had the sinking feeling that something was wrong. Praying it was only his usual grumpy demeanor, she changed into one of his shirts and settled into bed with a book of her own, waiting for him to join her, but it was hours before he entered the room almost sneakily. Had he hoped she'd be asleep?

"Severus," she called softly when he still didn't spare her a look as he started changing.

He jumped just the tiniest bit, clearly having thought she was asleep. Then, agonizingly slowly, he turned his black eyes on her. "Yes?"

"Is something the matter?"

"No."

She set her book on the nightstand to crawl across the bed and stand on her knees next to him, almost at eye level with him. "What's wrong?" she questioned sternly.

He gave a defeated sigh, reluctantly showing her, in her head, those two small scenes from dinner where she paid him no mind, and various others throughout the evening when she'd be in the same room for a while without even seeming to know he was a mere five feet away. In them all, he'd attached an emotion: loneliness.

Her expression softened.

"There, satisfied? It's ridiculous, I know. You have enough problems, anyway. Ignore me."

She caught his face in her hands. "I didn't mean to ignore you. I'm sorry."

"Stop right there. I'm only here as your chaperone, technically. I'm not meant to be a part of your shenanigans. Besides, I'll have to get used to sharing you with them." It was obvious he meant every word, but he looked upset, anyway.

Ceri wondered if his real problem was that she didn't need him right now and he just didn't realize it. Since they started living together, he'd essentially been her rock, so it would make sense if he missed being that.

With a sigh, she kissed his cheek. "Come to bed and quit pouting."

He finally gave her a smile, albeit a small one, but a smile nonetheless. Once he'd finished changing, he slid under the covers next to her, letting her use him as a pillow. He ran the tip of his fingers over her arm, slowly, where he could reach. With his free hand, he'd captured hers to hold on his chest next to where her head was resting. She was asleep in minutes, and he shortly followed.

 

 

The next morning, she was up first for once. Fred and George had gotten up even earlier, though, and had started working on…something.

"What are you boys doing?" she inquired, performing one final spell to dry her hair.

"Just some new products. Want to try one?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

George handed her what looked like an ordinary animal cracker.

"This isn't going to turn me into a giraffe, is it? Your ceiling isn't high enough for that."

"We would have taken you outside if that were the case," George denied.

"What does it do, then?"

"Eat it and see," Fred coaxed.

"Ceri rolled her eyes, but ate it. Nothing happened, but the twins' barely-suppressed laughter was telling. "What?"

Fred handed her a mirror.

Her eyes bugged out of her head. "Great Merlin!" She wasn't a giraffe, but she had the same markings all over her.

"Oh, boys!" Molly shrieked angrily from the other side of the sitting room.

All three collapsed into snickering. George managed to toss Ceri a vial of the antidote, and she somehow drank it without choking.

Molly shook her head at them all, knowing full well that a lecture wouldn't do any good. "Ceri, where's Severus? I've found an old potions book I think he'd enjoy."

"I think he's still in bed. I'll go get him; he doesn't like to sleep in, anyway."

Fred and George went back to their work, Molly retreated to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, and Ceri worked her way up the tall house.

She didn't bother knocking, assuming he was sleeping, but he had clearly just gotten out of the shower, because his hair was dripping wet and, having not heard her come in, he was removing a white towel from around his hips and reaching for a pair of black trousers. Ceri gasped loudly, startling him enough that he whirled to see who it was. Recognizing her, he relaxed his stance, and made for the trousers again, not bothering to cover up.

Her face was flaming. Merlin's beard…

"You should knock," was all he said.

She shut the door. "Yes, I should."

"What do you want?" he asked, voice hard. His movements were tight as he dressed.

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"Didn't sleep well."

"Why not?"

"That's not my bed. What do you want?" he repeated, clearly annoyed.

She let it go, not interested in making his mood worse. "Molly wants you."

Ceri waited for him to button his coat, which he did with a spell, and followed him out of the room. Two ginger heads were disappearing down the set of stairs ahead of them at the first landing. After a moment, she knew why.

"Severus—"

Poofpoofpoof

Pink, orange, and blue colored powder covered half his body. He tried to look around for the source, taking a step forward in an attempt to get out of the line of fire, only to be blasted again, this time with red, green, and purple. With a low growl, he turned on his heel to face Ceri, getting hit with yellow and a lighter blue. Other shades of previous colors covered him even more as he stepped toward her.

"I didn't, I swear, I had no idea they were going to—"

He seized her wrist to pull her through her own trap and into his arms. Hands on her hips, he spun them to make sure she was just as colorful as he was, grinning evilly. Giggling, she tried to escape a few times, only to be pulled back. He stopped eventually, and she realized she was dizzy. She clutched at his coat, barely able to keep her balance.

"What was that f—"

He kissed her, hard, in a way that stole her breathe. "Payback," he whispered against her lips, backing her into the wall.

Ceri wound her arms around her neck, back arched, standing on tiptoe. Suddenly, he was all that existed.

With that evil smirk back on his face, he pulled away. "I'm going to see what Molly wants, and then I'm going to get all this off me."

"But—I—we—what—no," she sputtered.

"Yes." And he was gone.

She groaned to herself before going to find the twins. Molly's mild scream told her Severus found her, and she was still laughing about the look that was probably on the poor woman's face when she practically ran into the twins turning the corner into the sitting room. They all looked back and forth at each other a few times before sniggering overtook them yet again.


End file.
